Java Chip Frappe
by CaBu
Summary: When Mr. Maellard hires a landscaper to make over the park for Pops' upcoming birthday party things go awry quickly and leaves three young females with no where to go. Will the house have to welcome three new roommates? OCs, MordecaiXOC, BensonxOC.
1. Act One

I own no part of Regular Show just the characters, Rye, Heather and Ailea. Thank you.

* * *

"_I looked up the word 'love' in the dictionary and added your name to it. Let's write the word 'dreams' together. Its better than doing it alone."-_ Chokotto Love (translated), S/mileage.

Java Chip Frappe

Act One

"Beshow! We need to sharpen up this place a bit!"

Oh boy, here it was again and here _he_ was in Mr. Maellard's office once again. Benson wasn't exactly sure why he was sitting in this eerily familiar seat for the second time in two months but he was sure he was about to get an earful.

Only if the lone issue was that his boss never remembered his _name_ was the worse part.

Benson resisted the urge to shutter in his seat as he sat just inches away from his boss. The older man sat in his large recliner, arms crossed over his chest with a look of disgust on his face. Had he been thinking of something else to complain about? The look on his face said 'yes'.

"We to give this place a new look, don't you think?"

The question was a rhetorical of course. Why argue with the man who put his money in his pocket and food on his table?

"Yes sir." He answered without hesitation.

"Good, good." Mr. Maellard nodded his oversized head with ease. "I think you will agree with me when I say we should call in a landscapist to make the park shine once again."

Landscapist? Alllllright, but how much was this going to cost and was it even worth it? Benson knew without a doubt that his boss would leave it to him to find the right landscapist for the right price. Ugh! He didn't know anyone in the field let alone how to haggle to get the price just perfect.

The park wasn't looking _that_ gloomy was it?

"Uh sir," He began but was quickly cut off by Mr. Maellard's booming voice.

"Beanstone, I'm trusting _you_ to find the right man for the job!" The older male was quick to jerk his finger in Benson's direction. "I want the place sparkling like never before, understand?"

He released a sigh; ugh this wasn't going to be fun. Benson moved his hand from his lap and placed his palm on his head before grunting to himself. Where was he going to find someone _quick_ enough for Mr. Maellard? Then again, the yellow book had never failed him before.

"If I can ask," Benson broke in, "Are we under a budget?"

"Of course! Don't be silly!"

"Ugh," Benson allowed his hand to run down his face. "Okay, I can do this."

"And if you can't," Mr. Maellard was cut in as if on cue. "You know the consequence!"

"Right."

This wouldn't be too hard right? Finding someone to work at the park shouldn't be hard, after all Mr. Maellard didn't say anything about hiring a _professional_, right? And with under his watchful eye, he would make certain that this person would get everything right! There were also two employees that needed some work to do and the promise of a few extra bucks would reel them in without a doubt.

What else was Craigslist for anyway?

XoXoX

"-decai! Mordecai!"

No, it wasn't morning time already, was it? Wasn't it just a few minutes ago he laid his head down on his soft pillow to sleep? Mornings had come faster then ever before since getting his job at the park. Couldn't a guy get a decent nights sleep in this joint?

He fought the urge to wake up, even if Rigby was shouting at the top of his lungs. Instead of responding, Mordecai twisted his torso beneath his thin bed sheets and turned to face the wall. A lengthy groan left him as he tried to find a comfortable spot on his mattress.

"Mordecai! Wake up!"

Again with calling his name? Damn Rigby and his playful ways in the morning. At least _someone_ around here was excited for the day to begin. This time around, Mordecai reached down to his sheets and yanked them up and over his head. He could feel the sensation of his smaller 'bro' tugging at the sheets that hung over the side of the bed.

"Rigby let me sleep, man." He grunted as he pulled on his blankets once again, this time able to break free the blankets from Rigby's grasp.

"But Mordecai," Rigby persisted, "You hafta come down stairs!"

"Ugh," Mordecai squinted his eyes, trying to resist the urge to open them. "What? Why?"

"There's a CHICK downstairs."

Wait. A. Minute.

Did Rigby just say there was a _chick_, meaning a female/girl/woman, downstairs? No, that was impossible! It was almost enough to even make him laugh! There was no way there was a girl downstairs, in _their_ kitchen. But the sudden statement from his smaller best bud did waken his senses.

Pushing the covers off his tired body, Mordecai sat straight up in his bed and locked gazes with the small raccoon who stood by his bedside. Rigby's eyes were wide with curiosity and wonder and his little feet jerked up and down, causing his whole body to jerk up and downward. So he was excited for this? Then that meant _something_ was going down.

"What are you talking about?" Mordecai narrowed his eyes with suspicion.

"Didn't you understand? There is a WOMAN downstairs, comprende?"

"No way."

"Way."

A chick in the house? That was more than a little odd. Mordecai was quick to lift his brow in question. Not even Margaret or Eileen came over without an invitation, so what was this about? It wasn't as if anyone like Pops or Skips had a girlfriend to speak of.

"Come on!" Rigby threw both arms into the air and flailed them back and forth. "If you're not gonna believe me, come and check 'er out for yourself!"

The small raccoon wasted no time in waiting for his best friend. Instead he fell to all fours and dashed out of the small room. Mordecai could hear his nails tapping against the wood floor as he flew down the stairs.

Ugh, fine. He was gonna check to see if Rigby was playing a prank on him. This wasn't the way he wanted to start off his only day off in the week. Not only was he woken up _early_ he was also being forced to take part in one of Rigby's games? Two strikes in one day? It wasn't something he would let his 'bro' get away with.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed and pushed his arms into the air and stretched. A long groan left his mouth as the tips of his feathers extended upward. His muscles contracted for a short moment and then relaxed as he brought his arms back down to his sides. With one good push, Mordecai removed himself from his semi-comfortable bed.

This better be worth it.

The taller blue jay moved down the stairs without hassle. As he descended the staircase he saw his best friend at the last step. His paws were wrapped around the doorway that led into the roomy kitchen. His snout was reaching around the doorway, his eyes glued to the scene playing out in front of him. Mordecai joined him within seconds and followed his lead, pressing his chest against the wall while his beak rounded the wall.

His eyes focused on the table where Benson sat, pencil and notebook within reach. Their boss was speaking in an unusually calm and cool tone, his eyes not focused on anything but his paperwork. That wasn't such a rare sight was it? Mordecai then felt his eyes shift toward the person sitting across from Benson, the _female_ sitting across from Benson.

Her long dark brown hair was the first thing to catch Mordecai's eyes. Her wavy locks cascaded over her shoulders and flowed down her back. She wore a pair of thinly framed glasses that sat over the many freckles that dusted her cheeks.

"See, I told ya there was a girl here." Rigby whispered his eyes still stuck on the strange woman.

"Wonder what she's doin' here." Mordecai replied in a hushed tone.

"She's been talking to Benson for awhile now," Rigby added.

"Hm."

That was also unusual. Perhaps she was a new employee? Then again, Benson never mentioned needing more hands around the park. But there was no use in standing around and staring! He was going to get to the bottom of the situation!

"Come on," Mordecai pushed his body off the drywall and stepped into the doorway.

"Dude, wait!"

He wasted no time and entered the bright kitchen, one wing attached to his hip. The sound of his feet moving into the room caused both Benson and the strange woman to turn and stare at him. With his free hand, Mordecai lifted it into the air and presented his best smile.

"Hey Benson," He said, by this time Rigby had joined him and stood at his side. "What's going on?"

Benson turned away from the duo and returned his stare to the girl he sat across from. "This is Mordecai and Rigby," He grunted.

The woman moved her right hand over to her nose and pushed on the nosepiece of her glasses. "Hello."

"They'll be helping you with the digging and planting." Benson added.

"Digging?" Mordecai lifted a brow.

"Planting?" Rigby chirped in question.

"Good to know." She bobbed her head a single time.

Ignoring the questions the slacking duo had asked only seconds ago, Benson continued. "But before we can get to that we still have to make a list of things we'll need."

"Of course." The four-eyed woman removed her hand from her face and placed her hand in her lap. "I know what you'll _need_ but you have to write down what you _want_, if you get where I'm going."

"I get it."

Mordecai felt his cheek twitch. So what? They were going to ignore them! It wasn't rude enough that Benson completely looked over them but to ignore their questions? It went farther than just crude, it was disrespectful!

Before he could get his opinion in, Rigby leapt from the floor, landing on the table. "Hey! What's going on here! If we're gonna work with this girl, we might like to know what we'll be doing!"

Benson shot Rigby a glare that caused the small raccoon to sink backward until he jumped off the table. "Mr. Maellard wanted me to hire a landscaper," He explained, his voice laced with irritation.

"Whaaaaat?" Mordecai pouted. "What for? The park has never looked better."

"Don't ask me," Benson's shoulders bounced up and down. "I'm just following orders and I expect you two to do the same."

"Ugh!" The taller blue jay threw his arms into the air. "Lame."

"Anyway," Benson jerked his head in the landscaper's direction, "This is Rye. She's going to be in charge of the gardening."

The blue bird turned his attention to the woman once again. She sat with a pleasant smile on her face and appeared to be as calm as a cucumber. So she wasn't nervous with Benson around? Hm, that was strange. Ah well, it was more kudos for her if she could stand up to their boss and his yelling.

Then again he hadn't started yelling, _yet_.

"But we still have today off, right?" Rigby asked, his pitch changing to a whine.

Benson shut his eyes and grunted, "Of course."

Rigby pumped his small furry fist into the air, "Yeah!"

"So, you're going to need sometime to write down everything you need, right?"

Mordecai once again turned his attention to the lone female in the kitchen. By now she and pushed her body out of her seat and stood up straight. She arched her back and stretched her limbs. After bringing her arms back down from the air, she pushed in her chair and approached Rigby.

"Yeah," The grumpy gumball machine rolled his eyes. "I'll talk to Mr. Maellard and see what kind of flowers he wants in the park until then, you're free to do what you want."

"Cool," Rye nodded her head again. "Text me when you have everything in order."

"Sure, whatever." Benson waved his hand back and forth, dismissing the landscaper.

"Hey, whaddya say we get out of here and get something to eat?"

Mordecai nearly jumped out of his own skin at the sound of Rye's deep voice. He looked at her with a pair of wide, confused eyes. She had a wide smile on her face while both hands attached to her hips. She tilted her head to the right side while she waited for a reply.

"Who? Us?" The taller male poked his index feather into his chest.

Rye let her brown eyes roll in a playful manner. "Who else?"

"Uh…" Mordecai was quick to look down to his small fuzzy friend. Rigby wasted no time in repeating the same action. "I guess."

"But why?" Rigby narrowed his eyes at the taller female. "What are you gettin' at?"

"You don't have to come," Rye removed her hands from her hips and took a few steps forward. "I was just asking, I'm going out anyway. Besides," She paused mid-step and turned her chin over her left shoulder. "If we're going to be co-workers, might as well get to know each other, right?"

As if on cue, the two best buds turned and looked at one another once again. Was this girl serious? Since when was _anyone_ in this city _that_ nice? Then again there had to be more people like Pops and less like Muscle Man, right?

Mordecai allowed his shoulders to shrug before he turned back to Rye. She continued to stand straight with a convincing smile on her face. What was the harm in going with her? After all, it wasn't as if she was going to kidnap them and hold them for ransom…right?

"Sure, we'll go with you."

"WHAT?" Rigby jerked backward, his jaw hanging several inches open.

Mordecai placed his right wing to his hip and glanced down at his friend. "What's the big deal, dude?"

"But…BUT!"

"Chill."

Rigby then squinted both eyes and poked out his bottom lip. "If this ends up like a crazy murder mystery, I'm totally gonna haunt you for the rest of eternity."

"Whatever."

"So, you don't mind if we go to the Coffee Shop, right?" Rye's smooth voice caught both boys off guard for a moment. "I have someone there I need to talk to."

Mordecai nodded, "No prob, that's cool with us," He then jerked his right leg out of place and bumped it against Rigby's side. "_Right_?"

"Hmph!" Rigby threw his arms over his small furry chest and pouted.

Rye turned her chin and faced forward. She then lifted her balled fist into the air and began to shake it. "Let's get going then."

Mordecai didn't wait for Rigby to follow after him; he made his way toward Rye and stood beside her. If she was willing to offer up friendship _that_ easily, what was the worst that could happen? After all, it was just the Coffee Shop; it wasn't as if they were going to death row! Things were gonna be totally cool…

…at least for now.

Act End


	2. Act Two

Java Chip Frappe

Act Two

Rye lead the way without flaw, she obviously knew where she was headed. Had she been here before? Mordecai nearly facepalmed at his last thought. Duh she had been there before! She lived in the same city, didn't she? Ugh, perhaps it was the promise of seeing Margaret was making him lightheaded?

The smell of coffee beans hit his nose and caused a chain reaction to his stomach. His belly grumbled at he scent. Then again, he hadn't had breakfast yet. Too bad he didn't have any extra cash on him then maybe he would be able to afford a small bite to eat along with his hot coffee. Ugh, being broke sucked, _hard_.

Before he could think twice, Mordecai found himself sitting in his usual chair at his usual table. With Rigby at his right side and Rye at his left, he waited for Margaret to approach their table and take their order. He placed his elbows on the long table and turned his head to the left to face Rye. The older female had stretched her arms over her head and sat back in her seat in a relaxed pose.

"Hey guys! What can I get for you all?"

The blue jay flinched to the sound of Margaret's voice. Ah, it was just the sound he wanted to hear first in the morning. He was quick to turn into her direction and spat out his order in a nervous tone. "The regular."

"Same here." Rigby lifted his paw in the air.

Mordecai turned to Rye to see her eyes half-lidded, as relaxed as ever. "Just get me a slice of the devil's food cake and a carton of milk, Maggie."

"_Maggie_?" Rigby curled his nose at Rye's comment.

"No problem, Rye!" Margaret shut her eyes and beamed.

"You know Rye?" Mordecai was quick to lift a single brow.

"Oh yeah," Margaret waved her wing in a nonchalant manner. "We've been friends for awhile now." She reopened her eyes and locked gazes with Mordecai. "Is that all guys?"

"Hm," Rye lifted her curled index finger to her bottom lip before turning to the duo beside her. "You guys want some cake too? Coffee on an empty stomach is terrible, at least for me it is."

The sound of two paws hitting the table caused Mordecai to flinch and look to his best friend. He watched as Rigby stood in his chair with a surprised look on his face that soon transformed into a wide, ear-to-ear smile.

"You mean it?" He asked with glee, "We can never afford cake when we come here!"

Rye allowed her shoulders to shrug a single time. "Sure."

Rigby reached out and latched to his tall blue bud. "Come on bro, how about it? Its not like we can give up a chance at CAKE!"

Mordecai turned back to Rye and presented a soft smile, "That's cool with me if you're cool with it."

Rye returned his attention to Margaret and lifted her first three fingers. "Three slices please." She ended her order with a wink in the female waitress's direction.

"Coming right up." She whirled on her heel and made a beeline back to the kitchen.

Ah, starting the day off with cake? This HAD to be one of those good days he'd look back on and smile about. Sure the next few days assured the tasks of digging and planting flowers but Mordecai didn't mind starting out the week like this. After all, he couldn't remember the last time he had a sweet piece of chocolate cake from the Coffee Shop. _And_ someone else was paying for it? Sweet.

"So how long have you guys been working at the park?"

The sound of Rye's voice once again caught the blue jay by surprise. He turned to the left without hesitation and watched as she leaned the left side of her face on her left fist. The glasses on her nose had fallen down a few centimeters, revealing her large brown eyes.

"Uh," Mordecai lifted his feather to his chin and mentally recalled his many days at the park. "A while now."

"Ah." Rye shut her large eyes and nodded her head.

"How did 'ol Benson get you to work for him anyhow?" Rigby's torso laid flat against the table as he locked gazes with the older female.

"Internet." Rye said in a simple tone. "He seemed pretty desperate, said that he needed someone ASAP."

"That's weird," He cut off Rigby and replied, "He didn't mention anything about making over the park."

The female allowed her eyes to flutter open as she moved her right hand out on the table. She placed her bent elbow on the hard wooden surface and linked her two hands together to support the weight of her chin. "Either way, I need the job."

"Makes sense." The taller male was quick to agree.

"He seems like a real hardass."

The two boys threw their heads back and laughed out loud. _That_ was putting it lightly! Ugh, if they had a dime for every time Benson shouted or threatened to fire them, they wouldn't _need_ to work for him!

"He's a ballbuster!" Rigby took a short break from laughter to agree with Rye. "He gives us all the lame jobs too! I'd like to see _him_ working as hard as we do!"

"Don't worry about that," Rye lifted her right brow as she stared at the smaller raccoon. "We're _all_ going to be working hard when the landscaping begins."

"UGH!" The tiny mammal threw both arms into the air before allowing his snout to hit the table's surface.

Mordecai felt his shoulders lift then drop. "It can't be _that_ hard. It's just digging a bunch of holes and fillin' 'em, right?" He asked, his voice hesitant and hushed.

Rye lifted her chin from her hands and laughed. Her smooth voice left her lips with ease and calmed any tense air that remained in the room. She only broke from her chuckles to turn to back to the duo and reply, "I wish it was that easy. It's gonna be hard, no doubt about that."

"Then I guess that calls for a slice of strawberry cheesecake after our chocolate cake!" Rigby jumped up, body riddled with excitement, "We've gotta CARB UP! Yeah!"

Before speaking, Rye removed her hands from their bent positions and leaned in toward Mordecai. She pushed her body against his shoulders, becoming closer to the frisky raccoon. She then extended her index finger outward and pressed it against Rigby's cold nose. A sly grin cracked across her cheeks and she hummed.

"This is a once in a lifetime offer."

Mordecai felt his heart slam in his chest cavity. What the heck, man? Why was she getting so CLOSE to him? Sure Rigby was on his opposite side but that didn't mean she could press her BODY against his! Ugh! He just met this chick!

Not to mention she was so _warm_.

"Order up!"

Oh thank the big man upstairs. The tall blue jay felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders as Rye moved away from him. She returned to her seat and watched as the white plate slid in front of her. Mordecai then turned forward and saw the same action repeat. A small dessert plate slide in his direction and centered in the middle was a thin slice of devil's food cake. The cake was a three-layered cake and between the layers was, what he assumed, was a slap of chocolate frosting. The sound of a thump caused him to jerk upward and watch as his coffee cup landed beside his slice of cake.

"Thanks Maggie," Rye flashed a smile in the waitress's direction.

Margaret turned around but not before smiling, "No problem." She then walked away from the table, continuing her day's work.

"Yeeeeaaauhhh!" Rigby ripped his plastic tableware off the hard wood surface and lifted both arms into the air. He wasted no time in digging into his sweet dessert.

Mordecai reached down and plucked his black, plastic fork from the table and stabbed the soft slice of cake. He pushed the fork deeper into the fluffy chocolate cake, pressing through the first layer with ease. The frosting between the layers of cake stuck to his utensil like glue and gave him more resistance than the cake itself. But he carried on until he reached the bottom of the slice. He then ripped his fork away from the slice, taking a piece of cake along with it.

"Oh yeah, this is gonna be sweet." He said just before pushing his food into his mouth.

An explosion of tastes bursted in his mouth, alerting his stomach to take a second bite. The taste of chocolate cake coated his tongue while the buttercream frosting stuck to the roof of his mouth. The light and fluffy texture of the cake didn't require too much chew and so he swallowed his food without hesitation. The cake hit his empty stomach and caused shivers to shoot up his spine. Not bad, not bad at all.

"So? Is it good?" Rye said with a smile on her face, fork ready to enter her mouth.

"Its good." Mordecai smiled in reply.

"Eh, I've had better."

The tallest male stiffened. He jerked his head to the right to see his best buddy, Rigby, with a look of dissatisfaction on his furry mug. He was staring at his empty fork his eyes half open and his lips poked outward. He sunk into his seat before jabbing his plastic utensil back into his cake.

"Is that right?" Rye's voice came from the left side of the table. "What's wrong with it?"

Rigby lifted a second, large, chunk of cake back into his mouth. He chewed on it for a few moments before swallowing hard. "Its light."

"Light?" Mordecai tilted his head to one side. "What the heck does that mean?"

"Yeah!" Rigby wasted no time in shoveling a third forkful of food into his cheeks. "Isn't this supposed to be devil's food cake? I thought DF cake was RICH. This stuff is like ANGEL FOOD CAKE!"

Hm. Mordecai shifted his chin back to his slice of chocolate cake. It _was_ pretty fluffy and light for devil's food cake. Even the buttercream didn't seem 'lardy' enough. Rigby was right _for once_; then again this was concerning food and that seemed to be Rigby's best subject…

"For someone who didn't enjoy it, you certainly finished it off quick." A laugh left Rye's lips and entered the air in a light pitch.

"It IS cake," The small male raccoon was quick to defend his case, "I can't let it go to waste!"

Mordecai turned back to the female and added to his statement, "That's true."

A second round of laughter left Rye's mouth. She paused for a moment, only to ask another question. "So you didn't like it?"

"Like it?" Rigby cocked a brow. "If I WERE paying for this, I'd want my money back!"

"Aw come on," The blue jay turned to his smaller friend. "It's not _that_ bad."

"Whatever, man."

"So," Rye began to tap her bottom lip with one of the fork tongs, a sly smile spreading over her cheeks. "You want to talk to the chef? Give 'em your critique?" Rye then allowed her head to shake from left to right. "I doubt you'd have the heart though."

"Whaaaat?" Rigby's jaw dropped. "Could so! Get him out here!" He then jumped to his feet while still in the steel chair. "Where is he?"

Rye nodded a single time before turning away from the duo. She then dropped her plastic fork, cupped her left hand over her mouth and called out to Margaret. "Maggie!" She shouted while pushing her right arm into the air. She waved her hand back and forth and continued to call for the female waitress. "Maggie, over here!"

The tall robin darted toward the table, not wasting a minute. "Yeah Rye? Do you need something?"

"Hey, do me a favor and get the baker for me." Rye's eyebrows wiggled as she asked her question. "Quick too, Rigby wants to give 'em a review on the cake."

"Oh?" Margaret shut her eyes and released a sweet giggle. "Sure. They'll be right out." She then twirled around and made her way to the kitchen once again.

"Don't tell me _you_ like the cake, Rye." Rigby eyed the lone female in question.

"Hey, cake is cake." Her words rolled off her tongue with ease. "I think its good."

"Do you HAVE any taste buds?" He shoved his nose around Mordecai's body and shot a glare at Rye.

Instead of giving the small brown mammal a verbal response, Rye shut her eyes and chuckled. She then proceeded to eat her cake, refusing to say another word. Wait, what was _that_ about? Did she know something they didn't?

She must.

"So who's the food critic?"

Mordecai felt his body grow cold. That voice, that couldn't be the _baker_ could it? No, it couldn't be, that was a girl's voice! He jerked upward and looked forward, past his plate and past the table to see a female standing feet in front of him. She was clad in the same work outfit as Margaret and Eileen with only the addition of flour stained on her face and apron. Her dark brown hair was styled in a short pixie-styled cut and her large brown eyes stared down the boys with little pity.

"You?" Mordecai felt his jaw drop. "You're the chef?"

The woman stepped closer to the table. She extended her arm out toward him and slammed her open, flat palm before him. "I'm not a chef!" She spat.

"Fine!" His arms shot upward in defense. "Pastry chef!"

The woman's flat hand curled into a fist and she again slammed it against the table's smooth exterior. "I'm not a pastry chef either!"

"Then what ARE YOU?" Rigby was quick to jump in.

"I'm a baker," She replied in a smoother tone. "Now, I'm guessing that _you_," She then pointed her index finger outward and shoved it into Mordecai's chest. "Are Rigby."

"No," The raccoon shook his head from side to side. "I'm Rigby."

She retracted her arm and cocked a brow. "You?"

He smoothed over his voice and allowed his eyes to shut halfway. "The one and only."

"Oh yeah?" She straightened out her back while the skin around her nose curled. "You have a problem with my food, pipsqueak?"

"Heather, meet Rigby and Mordecai, my new co-workers." Rye spoke out from her end of the table.

Heather turned at the call of her name and looked at the older female with the same disgusted look she had given Rigby moments earlier. She lifted her arms to her chest and crossed them over her bust. Her left leg jerked outward and she shifted her weight to her right leg. "These clowns?"

"Hey!" Rigby leapt from his chair and onto the table. "How do you know we're clowns? You just met us!"

Heather turned back toward the raccoon. "Just a guess."

"Whoa," Mordecai broke in, waving his arms up and down. "Let's chill, we don't wanna start trouble."

"Yeah chill_ Heather_."

Her brow twitched upon call of her name. The slender blue jay could see Heather grinding her teeth in her mouth. Ugh, this wasn't looking so good all of a sudden. Perhaps coming out with Rye was a bad idea? The last thing he wanted was to be banned from the Coffee Shop that would mean no more visits to see Margaret! He had to defuse the situation and fast.

"So what was wrong with it?" She asked Rigby.

"It was too light and fluffy!" He refused to hold back as he spoke. "Devil's food cake is supposed to be thick, greasy and RICH!" His arms flailed in the air as he continued, "I'd hafta eat three or four slices of your cake to feel full!"

"Does that include drinking milk?" She narrowed her eyes at the small mammal.

"Yes it does."

A scowl formed on her face. Her frown grew while her eyebrow twitched beyond control. She finally gritted her teeth before ripping her arms down from her chest. "How dare you!" She snapped. "Name ONE place that serves better cake than me!"

Rigby's face stayed still as a smile claimed his lips, "Betty Crocker makes a better cake."

A slapping sound caused Mordecai to glance to his left. He watched as Rye lifted her hand to her face and slap her cheek. Oh no, he knew what that meant; Rigby hit a soft spot with Heather? Oh boy that's just what they needed.

"A BOXED MIX?"

Mordecai forced his eyes shut. The sheer sound of her voice threatened to rock the Coffee Shop to its foundation. He was sure that the windows at the front of the shop and shattered open and all of the coffee pots bursted into a million pieces.

"Do you even know how to _read_ the instructions on a box mix?" Heather released a shallow hiss between her teeth.

"Duh," Rigby fought back, "They have pictures on those things now."

The female threw her arms into the air and laced her fingers through her short hair. She began to tug at her roots as she released a loud and long groan. Oh Mordecai was sure of it by this point, they would be banned from the Coffee Shop for sure now. All he could do was throw his hand over his face and shield himself from the embarrassing sight that played out in front of him.

She released her hands from her hair and leaned her face into Rigby's nose. "I can make the best cake you've ever tasted!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes!" She protested. "I'm not using HALF of my baking skills here!"

"Prove it."

Her cheek twitched. "Fine! You two work at the park, right?"

Mordecai allowed his wing to slide off his face at a slow pace, "Unfortunately."

"I'd say that was the perfect place to test my cake-baking skills." Heather squinted her eyes, forcing a vicious glare as she stared in to Rigby's dark-colored eyes. "You give me a date and I'll whip up a cake so good it will have you crying."

"Sounds good to me." The raccoon wrapped his arms over his furry chest. "But I know it won't happen."

Heather's pink bottom lip poked out. "Big talk for someone who works less than minimum wage at a park."

"Oh yeah?" A fierce glare shot over Rigby's features. "You talk big for someone who makes terrible cakes!"

Enough was enough! Mordecai bolted from his seat. He then extended his arm out to his best friend and wrapped his fingers around Rigby's tiny shoulders. With a single yank, he pulled the small mammal backward and out of Heather's face. "Enough, dude."

"Rye," Heather pulled back as well. "Give them my number. Then you idiots can text me when you've set up a date."

Rye lifted her index and middle fingers and waved the younger female off. With that said and done, Heather spun on her heel and stomped off toward the kitchen. The sound of a door slamming in the distance let the trio know she was out of earshot.

Mordecai felt his entire body relax. He slunk back into his seat and released a lengthy sigh. Ugh, why did Rigby _have_ to be a jerk when provoked? It was like dealing with a kid! But then again, on the bright side, they would be getting more cake out of it.

Now it was just a matter of letting Benson know that they had just agreed to a cake tasting at the park…

Bbbbbbbzzzzzz…

The sound of vibration alerted the blue jay and caused him to turn in Rye's direction. The older female, who had also been slouching in her seat, reached down into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her cellular phone. Her fingers tapped across the surface of her phone while her eyes scanned back and forth.

"Hey guys," She began as her fingers and eyes continued to move about. "Benson is done making his list, we should head back."

"Ugh," Rigby moaned, ears falling flat. "_Fine_."

"Come on then." Mordecai sighed as he pulled himself out of his seat.

Rye was second to leave her seat and joined Mordecai with a pleasant smile on her face. "Right behind you."

XoXoX

"So he wants a mixture of different colored roses along with some lilacs, can you do that?"

Yada, yada, yada… Mordecai was on the brink of boredom tears. His lungs ached for a yawn but he had to resist! Not in front of Benson, he had gotten enough crap from Benson since working here; he didn't need more fuel for his boss to fire. On the other hand, Rigby felt it just right to yawn without hesitation. Mordecai's elbow jerked out of place, the end of his wing slamming against Rigby's upper arm. The smaller raccoon flinched and released a small 'ow' but stayed in place to Mordecai's surprise.

"That's fine," Rye nodded as she took the notebook paper from Benson's hands. Her eyes jerked back and forth as she read his list. "Ah, Honeysuckle too?"

Benson lifted a brow. "Is that a problem?"

"Yeah kind of," Rye pulled her arm downward as she released a few nervous chuckles. "I'm really allergic to bee stings."

"Hm," Benson placed his finger beneath his lip. "We'll figure it out. I have enough workers to do the job."

"Good." Rye nodded her head a single time. "How much time is Mr. Maellard giving us?"

"That's our only problem," Benson moved his arms over his metal chest and crossed his arms. "It seems we're going to have to do the whole job within two weeks."

Both Mordecai and Rigby threw their arms into the air and proceeded to release a long and loud groan. Only two weeks? They were going to have to work like crazy to finish the work within two weeks! What was this some kind of bad luck or karma?

"Pops' birthday is in two weeks," Benson continued, ignoring his employee's pervious actions. "Mr. Maellard wants the park looking good for the party."

"We can do it." Rye was quick to reassure her teammates. "I promise we'll have everything planted before then." She said as she balled her right fist.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm." Benson managed to break into a small smile. "That only leaves me with getting a cake for the party."

"Can't you use one from the snack bar?" Rigby questioned.

"We could," Benson replied without hesitation. "But Mr. Maellard wants a gourmet cake for his son's birthday. I'm going to have to find a catering company to do the job." He then lifted his hand to his head and sighed. "There's more time and money we don't have."

Mordecai flinched. Cake? They needed a cake? Could this get any more perfect? He knew where they could get a cake, a gourmet cake for _free_.

"_You give me a date and I'll whip up a cake so good it will have you crying."_

"Hey," Mordecai took a single step toward his boss and presented his best smile. "I know were we can get a really great cake for free!"

"Huh?" Mordecai's statement took the older male by surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"Hear me out on this," Mordecai's arms flew up to his defense. "I know a baker that can do this for free. It'll be the best cake you've ever tasted, I swear."

"The best?" Rigby looked upward.

Mordecai's elbow flew out once more, silencing the smaller mammal. "The baker is Rye's friend, Heather." He explained further to his flustered boss. "She'll do it for free, totally free." He then jerked to his left and looked at Rye. "_Right_?"

Her body stiffened for a moment before she jolted into reality. "Y-yeah!"

Benson narrowed his eyes at the trio standing in front of him. He then lowered his hand from his face and poked out his bottom lip. Mordecai couldn't begin to imagine what his superior was thinking. Would he believe him or was he risking his neck? After all failing at something like this could put himself _and_ Rigby into serious employment danger!

"Heather, huh?" Benson gave the trio a hard stare. "You better not be playing a prank, Mordecai."

"No, no!" Said bird shook his head back and forth. "Its totally legit! I promise."

"Fine." Benson gave in and his body relaxed. "Set up a date with Heather and tell her we want a chocolate cake for the party in two weeks."

And it was going to be a chocolate cake on top of everything? His luck _couldn't_ get any better. Ah, Mordecai could almost taste his overtime pay on his tongue. He was going to make a great impression and get free cake for Pops? Life couldn't get any better.

Act End


	3. Act Three

Java Chip Frappe

Act Three

"You mean we hafta play tour guide?"

Mordecai felt his eyes roll. As if he had to explain himself to Rigby. The instructions Benson had given them earlier were clear; today they were to give Rye a tour of the entire park. Yes, of course he knew it was a lame job but they didn't have much of a choice! And if he was going to be honest with himself, giving a tour was much better than mowing the lawn.

"You heard Benson, Rigby." Mordecai said as he moved through the kitchen, his raccoon friend hot on his trail.

"But this is gonna blow!" He replied, dropping to all fours and running out in front of the taller blue bird. "We've seen every inch of this place like a zillion times and now we gotta show some broad around?"

"Would you rather mow the lawn, dude?" Mordecai asked, a single brow lifted.

The features on Rigby's face settled. "Good point."

"She seems pretty cool, so it shouldn't be so bad." Mordecai added.

"Well what about her friend, Heather!" Rigby stood up straight and placed his hands to his hips. "She's nuts and-"

Knock, knock

Ah, that had to be Rye. Mordecai jerked his head to the right and began to exit the kitchen. The sound of Rigby's nails hitting the hardwood floor let him know he was being followed. He reached the front door in no time and placed his feathers around the golden doorknob. With a single twist, the door unlatched and he pulled. The image of Rye came into full view within seconds. Dressed in a white working shirt and a pair of jeans while wearing her long wavy hair up in a tight bun. Slung over her left shoulder was a dark blue polka dotted bag.

"Hey," She said with her right hand lifted.

"Hey Rye," Mordecai slipped to one side and allowed the older female to enter the house.

Rigby jumped up and down with glee, his eyes glued to the large bag attached to her shoulder. "What's in the bag?"

Rye stepped passed both boys and made her way to the kitchen. Hm, so she already knew her way around the house did she? Impressive. Mordecai followed behind, Rigby holding a close second. The trio entered the brightly lit kitchen while Rye made her way toward an empty counter. She slid the shoulder strap from her arm and placed the container down.

"Lunch." She said with a satisfied smile.

"You brought FOOD?" The mammal squealed.

"I thought by the size of the park, it might take a few hours to get the complete tour," Rye placed both hands to her hips as she continued, "I thought we might get hungry."

"Cool," Mordecai said with a single bob of his head. "What is it?"

"Tuna noodle casserole."

"_Tuna_?" The look of excitement vanished from Rigby's face. "Ick!"

"Dude!" The taller male snapped at his smaller partner.

"I don't like tuna." He threw his arms over his chest and turned his nose upward.

"Whatever." Rye shrugged her shoulders. "You can eat in then."

"Don't worry about him," Mordecai nudged the raccoon with his elbow. "He'll try anything once."

Rigby opened his mouth as if to speak with the sound of footsteps caught them off guard. They watched as Benson entered the large kitchen, pencil and clipboard in hand. He approached the trio while his eyes remained glued to the paperwork in front of him.

"Hey," He began in a smooth voice. "I just wanted to make sure Rye got here alright."

Rye lifted her thumb upward, almost in a sarcastic sense. "I'm here." Mordecai found himself snorting back his laughter at Rye's actions.

"Okay, we'll I'm going back home early today," He continued on, "I have some things to take care of before tomorrow."

"What?" Rigby's jaw dropped. "You mean you get the day off while we're working our butts off? What the HECK, man?"

Benson's brow twitched with anger. "You can have the day off if you want to go without pay." Seeing the expression on Rigby's face as a reply, he continued. "Now, Mordecai I want _you_ to make sure Rye gets home in once piece."

Take Rye home? What the heck was up with that? Since when did Benson care about his employees? Then again, could Rye be considered a real employee? He _was_ paying her for her services, wasn't he? It had to be because Rye was a chick.

Benson had a gentleman hidden within all that grumpy exterior? It was enough to make him laugh out loud.

"Fine," Mordecai choked back the giggles that crept up his throat.

"Good," Benson whirled around and began his walk to the exit. "Call me if you have any problems."

Mordecai waited a few moments until Benson had left the room entirely. Ugh, why couldn't he be a gentleman with the _men_ in the house? While it was laughable for a moment or two, it did make his stomach crawl; the thought of Benson's love life was sickening.

"Well lets get started." Rye pressed by the two younger males. "The sooner the better."

XoXoX

Two hours passed by quicker than expected. Much quicker, especially since Mordecai went into this job thinking it would take forever. After all, he knew the park from top to bottom enough as it was. They took Rye, by cart; to each place marked on the map Benson had given them earlier. Their boss had marked each spot that Mr. Maellard wanted plants, most of them near the gazebo and the entrance of the park. It only took the professional landscaper moments to jolt down a few extra details in her notebook before they moved on to the next space marked on the map. She was quick in her work but was she being detailed?

He couldn't be sure yet.

Benson had found Rye off the internet, right? How skilled could she be if she was found off of, what he assumed, was Craigslist? He had never heard of Rye's services before _and_ he hadn't yet seen any other workers from her 'business'. Was she a pro or was she just someone listed on the advertising website with a catchy ad, ready to make a quick buck?

Either way he couldn't keep his mind on the subject for long, he had a job to do whether Rye was a pro or not. As long as she didn't run the park out of money with some kind of scheme, it didn't matter to him.

"Ready for lunch?"

He was caught off guard by the sound of her voice. He turned in her direction to see her body leaving the cart. He had driven the small, white cart back to the house without thinking and he was sure Rigby was ready for lunch. The job had started at around 10 am and two hours had passed so it had to at least 12.

He pulled one leg out of the cart then the other. He pushed his body upward and stood up. He looked beyond the cart to see Rye and Rigby approaching the back door, where the kitchen was located. He followed and within moments was in the familiar kitchen area.

Around the counter stood Pops, Skips, Muscle Man and High-five Ghost, all speaking amongst each other. So they had gathered for lunch as well? Then again the promise of the new landscaper _did_ draw attention.

"Oh!" Pops awed as the trio entered deeper into the kitchen. "Mordecai, Rigby! It's about time you came in for lunch!"

"Yeah, I'm stravin'." Rigby placed his fuzzy hands over his belly. "Let's get some GRUB."

"We also wanted a chance to meet Ms. Rye!" Pops stepped forward with his classic smile and giggle.

Rye lifted her hand to pause the older male in his sentence, "Just call me Rye."

"Its about TIME we got a chick around here," Muscle Man beamed with a toothy grin. "It's a sausage fest around here!"

Mordecai felt the rush of embarrassment rush over his body. Ugh God, why did Muscle Man _have_ to make a jerk of himself in front of the only woman they had in the house in _months_?

"So you're the landscaper?" Skips said, his voice changing the awkward atmosphere in the room.

Rye shrugged her shoulders a single time. "If you wanna call me that."

The tall blue jay flinched. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Was she just confirming all of his worst fears? If it was enough for Skips to bring up in conversation then it was obviously bothering him as well. Perhaps the yeti wanted to keep a watchful eye on the young 'landscaper'?

Mordecai had to get the thought out of his head. He cleared his throat before moving forward, opening his arm to the four men new to Rye. "Rye, meet Pops, Skips, Muscle Man and High-five Ghost."

Instead of saying anything, Rye lifted her hand into the air and waved it a single time.

"Uh," Mordecai released a nervous laugh as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. "Let's get to lunch…"

"Right." Rye nodded.

The group of men parted, allowing the lone female to step between them. She then placed her hand on the large tote bag she had brought in two hours earlier. She pulled the zipper from the right side of the back all the way around the square bag until it came to the far left side. Popping open the carrier, she revealed a large glass dish that held the casserole.

"What a delightful bag!" Pops slapped his cheeks and gushed. "Where _did_ you get it?"

"This old thing?" Rye peeked over her shoulder to make eye contact with the older male behind her. "Its from QVC, it's a special brand or something like that…" She trailed off and turned her chin forward once more. "You four can have some too, if you'd like."

"Oh?" Pops tilted his head to one side. "How kind! It would be rude of us to decline your offer, Rye."

"Now…" She muttered to herself as she pulled away from the counter and made her way to the oven.

She stood in front of the electric oven and placed her left hand to her hip. With her free right hand she began to stroke her chin in question. Was she confused? The cocked brow on her forehead and the humming sound that vibrated through her lips said 'yes'.

"What's the matter never used a electric oven before?" Muscle Man said in a taunting voice.

"Uhhh," Rye spun around to face the men. She had released her arms from her pervious position and shrugged her shoulders in a loose manner. Her eyes screwed shut while her eyebrows flipped upside down. A string of nervous giggles left her as sweat built on her temple.

Knock, knock

Mordecai's body stiffened. Since when did someone ever knock on their door without invitation? There was no way it could be Benson, he had a key after all. Mordecai lead the way and turned his attention toward the direction of the front door.

"Ohh! More guests!" Pops clapped his hands.

"I'll get it!" Rye found the perfect opportunity to break from her awkward stance at the oven and made a dash for the front door.

She fled from sight before Mordecai could stop her. The sound of the door creaking open alerted all the males to dart toward the doorway of the kitchen. One by one they stood at the right side of the doorway, their heads just peeking around the corner.

"Did you invite anyone over?" Mordecai looked downward to Muscle Man.

"Psh," The green man scoffed. "No."

Then who could it be? It wasn't as if visitors came regularly to their door. In fact, by Benson's own testimony, people made an effort to stay _away_ from the house. If it wasn't one crazy situation it was another…

"Oh what's up Heather?"

Mordecai felt his heart drop into his stomach. Ugh, really? Not her! Rye's image slid to the side and revealed the taller female with the shorter haircut. In her hands was a large bag of potato chips and on her face she wore her, what he assumed, was her usual scowl.

"Heather?" Rigby groaned.

"Who's Heather?" Skips whispered to his fellow comrades.

"Ugh," Mordecai released a groan that challenged Rigby's. "The baker from the Coffee Shop."

"What is she doing here?" High-five Ghost asked in a high-pitched hush.

"Well," Pops removed himself from the wall. "Let's say hello!"

"Uh, I don't think that's such a good idea, Pops." Mordecai extended his arm to the older male, in his best effort to stop him before approaching the beast.

"Why?" Muscle Man was second to pull away from his place on the wall.

Before Mordecai could explain himself without the girls hearing him, Rye walked back into the kitchen, Heather at her side. The taller female held the bag of chips in one hand and managed to cross her arms over her bust. A light dusting of pink flashed over her cheeks as she refused to make eye contact with anyone but Rye.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Rigby was first to ask as he and the remaining males came off the wall and created a small circle around the newest female.

Heather's brow lifted but her frown and blush stayed the same. "I had to bring the chips." She said in a low tone.

"Oh!" Rye hit the side of her own head and chuckled. "I forgot them! How could I forget the chips for the casserole?"

"Chips?" Mordecai cocked a brow. "On a casserole?"

"Sounds splendid!" Pops cheered.

Heather's eyes landed on the floor before she pushed between the men standing in her way. She approached the oven and quickly tapped her fingers over the buttons. Temperature set on the oven she then stepped to the sink and turned on the cold water. Pressing her hands into the waterfall in the faucet, she then grabbed the soap from the dish. She took a few moments to wash her hands with care and after the suds were gone from her fingers, she shut off the water.

"I couldn't have you eat my casserole without the chips on the top." She said before walking back toward the counter.

"Your casserole?" Rigby asked.

"Yes, I made it."

"Wait!" Muscle Man threw his arms into the air. "Just WHO are you?"

Skips looked down to the shorter male and responded, "They're sisters, can't you tell?"

"SISTERS?" Mordecai and Rigby shouted in unison.

"No way," Mordecai turned his attention to Rye.

"You mean you hafta LIVE with _that_?" Rigby said in awe.

The sound of Heather clearing her throat caused the spotlight to turn to her once again. They watched as she reached out to the large bag of Lays and ripped the top open. She then shoved her hands into the bag of chips and pulled out two handfuls. She proceeded to crumble the greasy, salty chips over the casserole.

"She's usually not like this," Rye hummed aloud, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's the matter?" She asked her sister with a brow arched.

"Nothing." Heather replied as she shut her eyes.

"So you made this right?" Rigby asked, his finger pointed to the glass dish on the counter. "Is it gonna taste anything like your ca-" Mordecai lifted his foot and slammed it down on Rigby's foot. The young raccoon let out a squeal before turning back up to face his attacker. "What the HECK, man?"

"Shut it, dude."

That's all he needed, to spoil Pops' surprise before it could even begin. _That_ would be an accident that neither of them could afford to recover from. Benson would have a huge cow not to mention Mr. Maellard. They would _all_ lose jobs!

The sound of the bag of chips crinkling caused Mordecai to turn back to Heather. The young female had apparently finished her finishing touches on the casserole and walked back to the sink. She ran her fingers through the faucet once more, removing any excess salt and grease from her fingers. "When the oven is finished preheating, throw the dish in and wait thirty minutes."

With a single tap on to faucet the water came to a stop and she reached out for a towel to dry her hands. Once dried to her satisfaction, she pressed through the group and made her way toward the front door.

"Wait."

Mordecai's ears vibrated to the sound of Pops' voice. He looked in the male's direction to see he had a look of concern on his face. His usual cheery smile and wide eyes had gone and he looked as if he had been disappointed in some way.

The call of his voice alerted Heather and made her stop mid-step. She looked backward over her shoulder and locked gazes with Pops. Seeing as the older man had called to her, her brows lifted and she remained silent.

"Aren't you going to stay for lunch?" He asked in a sweet tone.

An explosion of red gathered at her cheeks. Her jaw dropped several inches and her brows remained at the top of her forehead. Was she shocked by Pops sudden invite to lunch? Why should she be, after all, her sister was invited _and_ she had made the food.

"I…" She stuttered in effort to make clear words. "I-I can't…"

Rye rushed her sister and slung her arm around Heather's shoulders. Drawing the blushing female into her chest, Rye cracked a warm smile. "Come on, what's the harm? You don't have to work today, do you?"

"No, but-"

"Stay," Mordecai felt himself feeling sorry for the baker. "We have enough room."

"And we have plenty of cola!" Muscle Man was next in line to encourage the young girl to stay for the afternoon.

"I…"

"Besides," Rigby spoke after shutting his eyes and shrugging his shoulders. "You have to see if I like your food."

She parted her lips as if she was about to speak but no words formed on her tongue. Instead she stood, her blush spreading all the way to her earlobes. She then sunk her chin into her shoulders and began to hum. Was she really that nervous?

The sound of the oven dinging caught the entire group off guard. They all flinched and looked toward the oven.

"What next?" Skips asked in a persuasive tone along with a smile.

"Put it in the oven and set the timer." She squeaked, her eyes darting off into a different direction.

Muscle Man took charge and approached the counter where the casserole sat. He lifted the dish into the air and stepped closer to the oven. With one swift jerk, he opened the oven and shoved the glass dish inside. "Whoo!" He declared after his task was completed.

"Now we play the waiting game." Rigby shot a grin in his best bud's direction.

"So," Pops spoke to Heather once again, using his softest tone. "Will you stay?"

Heather sighed to herself before giving a shallow nod of her head. After her small response, her landscaping sister tightened her grip on the baker and beamed. "Good! You know you _wanted to_ anyway."

The female standing in front of Mordecai and company was _not_ the girl he met yesterday. In fact, this person had to be the polar opposite of the girl he met at the bakery. At this rate she actually seemed tolerable. Hopefully, it would last.

Act End


	4. Act Four

Java Chip Frappe

Act Four

Rye pushed around the food on her plate, mixing the mac and cheese, tuna and chips until they became one pile of mush; that was just the way she liked it. She drove her fork into her meal and removed a hunk of casserole from her platter. She pressed the fork to her lips and took a bite of her food. Ah, could comfort food get any better? It was a familiar feeling she had learned from eating food this heavy. Her sister's food truly rivaled her Mother's.

After moving the food around in her mouth for a while, she swallowed the warm meal. Her stomach and taste buds demanded refreshment and so she reached out for her can of cola. She took a quick swig before placing the can back down on the table.

"Oh Ms. Heather, this is scrumptious!" Pops said with glee. "Who knew the combination of fish and pasta could be so ingenious!"

Heather released a few nervous giggles before she replied to Pops' compliment. "It's my Mom's recipe actually.

By this time Mordecai had introduced all the men to Heather and vice versa. Thank goodness because Rye wasn't sure that she knew everyone's names exactly. There were quite a lot of faces and names to remember at once, but she was sure she would get it eventually.

Rye looked back to her nervous sister and held back the laughter she held. Poor Heather, she looked just dreadful! How could she be _this_ nervous? Was it the fact that she was surrounded by men? It had to be, otherwise she was pretty outgoing. With Margaret and Eileen Heather had no problem stating her opinion so it had to be the fact that she was around so many males. How cute.

"So Rigby," Mordecai's voice caused the oldest female to turn to the right. "What do you think of the food?"

The raccoon hummed to himself for a moment before stuffing another forkful of food into his mouth. He chewed for a few silent moments while Heather sat at the other end of the table, waiting anxiously for his reply.

"It hasn't stopped you from eating any." Rye said with a grin.

The small brown mammal paused then swallowed. He then reached out to his soda and cleansed his palate. "It's alright." He said, refusing to look in Heather's direction.

"That's saying a lot," Mordecai released a few friendly chuckles. "Seeing as you don't like tuna."

"I think that means you pass, Hea." Rye turned to her sister and winked.

"Oh!" Pops' voice echoed through the kitchen. "Hea? What an adorable nickname, would you mind at all if I used it, Ms. Heather?" He turned to the young female with a large smile on his face.

"Nope," Heather said, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Hey!" Rye turned her attention to Muscle Man, who was seated beside Heather. "What are you doin' drinkin' water?" He asked without hesitation. "I said we have PLENTY of cola to go around!"

Heather flinched, the blush returning to her cheeks. "I didn't see any diet soda, that's all."

"Diet?" High-five Ghost gave the baker a confused stare. "What for?"

"I don't lik-"

"You need more meat on your bones!" Muscle Man stated in a deep, loud voice. He then proceeded to reach out to the glass casserole dish and spoon heaps of food onto her plate. "Eat up!"

"Yes Hea," Pops shut his eyes and nodded his head. "You need all the strength you can get, you _are_ helping us with the landscaping aren't you?"

"What?" Heather flinched and turned to Pops, who sat on her opposite side. "When…"

"About the landscaping," Skips broke into the conversation and locked stares with Rye. "I heard that we have a certain amount of time to finish it."

Rye nodded her head to agree. She could only be left to assume since Pops was in the room, that not much could be said about the party his Father was having for him. He seemed innocent enough to be naïve about it, so it was better if she kept her yap shut.

Her eyes returned to Skips, "Yes, I've already ordered the flowers from QVC's website, so that's covered."

"Are you sure they'll get here in time?" Rigby asked, his mouth still full of food.

"Its called _express shipping_." Heather shot the raccoon an evil stare from across the table.

"HEY!" He slammed his paws on the table and sat up in his seat. "I knew that!"

"Anyway," Rye cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention once again. "All we need to do is get fertilizer and the planting equipment."

"Hum, hum," Mordecai nodded his head. "We can do that, no biggie."

"Oh yeah?" Rye's right brow arched, "It's going to take Superman to carry more than a dozen bags of dirt and fertilizer."

"We have the cart," Rigby swirled what remained of his food on his plate. "It's covered."

Rye rolled her eyes. If they wanted to think that way, she wasn't going to fight it. They would see soon enough that planting a major landscaping project was far from just digging a few holes. Then again with so many men around, it _just_ might be easier than she expected. It wasn't everyday she had so many guys around to carry huge bags of soil.

"You looked concerned."

Rye glanced up from her plate to see Skips looking back at her. "Oh, I'm just a bit nervous about the Honeysuckle."

"Why?" He asked.

"I have an allergy to bees."

"No problem!" Pops exclaimed, more excited than he should be at the moment. "Hea and I can plant the Honeysuckle, right Hea?" He turned to look at the young woman sitting beside him.

"What?" Heather flinched. "When was I assigned a job here?"

The look of joy left Pops' features, turning his smile into a frown. Then in a small, sad tone he spoke, "You aren't going to help?"

"Uh…" A blank expression spread over her features. "Well, I do have work…"

"Then again we're gonna need all the help we can get." Skips said as he dropped his fork onto his cleaned plate. "Especially if Benson wants the job done before two weeks is up."

"Aw, come on Hea." Rye knew exactly what buttons to hit with her younger half. She forced a frown while her pitch changed. "It'll be fun, besides I think Pops would appreciate it." She then nudged her chin in the direction of the older man.

As if on cue, Heather turned to her right to see Pops with a large pair of puppy dog eyes. His bottom lip poked out and his mustache quivered. The young baker let out a loud sigh before allowing her head to drop in defeat.

"Fine. I'll get some days off work."

"Whoooo!" Mordecai and Rigby jumped from their seats and began to fail their arms in the air.

Oh so the two besties saw this as an opportunity to do less work, eh? Who could blame them anyway, after all this was going to be a lot of work? Especially seeing as this _was_ her first job as a landscapist. But no one else, save her sister, knew it and now they didn't have to. The more helping hands she had, the better her work appeared. This job was going to set her for life, she was sure of it.

XoXoX

The warm spring air passed by Mordecai's face as he steered the small white golf cart through the park. Though Rigby and Rye were by his side, the drive was oddly silent. What was this, some kind of awkward silence before a terrible storm? Ugh! He could hardly stand it! Someone had to say something soon or else he'd flip out.

The gazebo came into sight and at no better time; now they would _have_ to talk to one another. Mordecai moved his foot over to the brake and pressed down gently. The cart came to a slow halt just in front of the large gazebo. So Mr. Maellard was going to throw the party here? Not a bad idea, a few flowers _could_ lighten the place up after all.

The weight in the vehicle shifted as the trio exited. Rye was first to whip out her small notebook, her pen resting on her ear. She stepped toward the gazebo before reaching back into her pocket. She pulled out the small map Benson had given her the day before. Reading over the paper she began to jolt down _more_ notes. What they were, Mordecai and Rigby had no idea.

Rigby's small body became the better of him and he dropped to the grass. His backside lead the way and finally he was laying down on the grass, staring up at the blue sky above. He released a long, loud groan before turning his head to face Rye.

"MORE notes?" His eyelids grew heavy with boredom.

"I have to see where the light hits the ground," Rye said as she pushed her glasses up over her forehead. "That way I know what plants get the most sunlight." She then removed the pen from the top of her ear and placed it to a clean sheet of paper.

"What's the big deal?" Rigby shut his eyes before moving his snout to face the sun. "Just dig a hole, throw the plant in and water it!"

"Its more of a science," Rye muttered.

"Whatever, man." Rigby sighed.

So it wasn't just about digging a hole? Mordecai watched as Rye as she lifted her head upward and looked around the surrounding area. She took a few short steps to the bare area of dead grass where Benson wanted the flowers and bent down on a single knee. It _looked_ like she knew what she was doing, for the time being…

"Is it really that important?" Mordecai followed after the female and stood above her, hands to his hips.

"I also have to mark which flowers go next to each other," She pulled her eyes away from the ground and began to write something down in her notebook. "Some plants will use and steal more energy from other plants. That's why we can't plant the Honeysuckle near the roses."

At least she appeared dedicated. She knew more about plants then either he or Rigby, which was always a good thing. And if she wanted to do all the thinking, that was fine too. How hard could digging a bunch of holes be? Mordecai had to admit; he'd rather dig then do all the thinking. He also had to say, it was impressive watching Rye work her magic.

"So is Heather your younger sister or what?" Rigby's voice vibrated in Mordecai's ears.

"Hm," Rye pushed her body off the ground. "Younger."

"Ugh!" Rigby's arms shot into the air. "Younger siblings are a terror!"

"Oh yeah?" Rye glanced over her shoulder and lifted a brow in the raccoon's direction. "Brother or sister?"

"Younger brother."

"Haha," Rye returned her glance to her notes. "I have two younger sisters."

Mordecai felt his interest peek. "Two?" He asked, jerking his head to the right.

She nodded. Ah, was this the reason why she was so patient? Nothing they had been through in their forty-eight hours together had seemed to even spark any anger in Rye, so this must be why.

"Heather then Ailea."

"No wonder she's such a brat," Rigby moved his forearm over his eyes. "She's a _younger_ sister."

Rye jerked her head around once more, facing Rigby. This time her eyebrows shot down over her eyes and her bottom lip quivered. "Hey," She spoke in a angered voice, "Don't talk about Heather that way."

"Harsh dude." Mordecai folded his wings over his chest.

"Besides," Rye's body spun around to face the boys completely. "I _know_ the reason why she's been acting out. Its thanks to _you_ actually."

Rigby's small torso jolted out of place and he locked gazes with the older female. "WHUT? What did _I_ do?" He asked, shoving his index finger into his furry chest.

Rye allowed her arms to rest against her sides. "You criticized her baking." Rye released a small sigh that caused Mordecai to relax. "She's…"

"Hey!" Rigby jumped on his hind legs. "I was just tellin' the truth! I know cake, and I was explaining the facts." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked to the left.

"She's sensitive when it comes to people tasting her baking."

Mordecai flinched. Was that the real reason behind Heather's hostility? The reason she came out of the kitchen with a scowl only her tone could rival? But why would she be sensitive when it came to that? After all, she was a baker.

But she was also a chick.

"You have a problem with my food, pipsqueak?"

Girls were more in tuned with their emotions. They had _feelings_.

"That's not my fault!" Rigby barked back in defense. "How was I supposed to know that?"

"Just check yourself next time," Rye spoke in a dark tone, her cheek twitching along the way. "I'll let it slide _once_ but next time you won't be able to eat solid foods."

"GEE-HEEZ!" Rigby threw his arms down to his sides. "I get it!"

Had Heather really been that upset about what happened the pervious day? It was obvious that Rye was much more protective of her sister on _this_ day then she was about it yesterday. Perhaps Heather had confided in her older sister when they got home? Either way, making a girl cry was not cool. He had to make sure Rigby didn't run off at the mouth like that again.

"Hey looooosers!"

Mordecai shuttered. Gah, why did it have to be Muscle Man of all people? Didn't have enough joking and socialism during lunch? Now he had to drive up in his white cart, High-five Ghost by his side as usual, and act slick? It was because there was a chick around, wasn't it? Ugh, lame.

"Whadd'you want?" Rigby curled his lip at the sight of the short male.

"Just came to check up, that's all." He said with a wide grin. "Make sure you're treatin' Rye with _extra_ care, if you know what I'm sayin'."

"Cut it out, man." Mordecai released a groan while he rolled his eyes.

"You're cramping our COOL!" Rigby's arms extended upward and he waved his hands in the air. "Beat it!"

"What party poopers," Muscle Man replied as he shook his head in shame. "Hey Rye, wanna come hang with some real partiers?"

"Yeah!" High-five Ghost was quick to agree with his bestie. "Let's get out of here!"

"Nah," Rye lifted her pen and notebook to chest-level. She then nudged her head in the direction of the bare land that needed planting. "I have to get more notes before I can do anything."

"Lame," The short, pudgy male sighed. "The ONE time we get a chick around here, she's work motivated. Oh well." He shrugged his shoulders before gripping at his stirring wheel once again. "If you decide to have fun, let me know."

The sound of rubber grinding against the rocks and gravel didn't seem to face Rye. She stood still and watched as dirt and dust were flung into the air after the cart's wheels began to spin. The small vehicle coughed and spurted before pulling forward. It was out of sight within a few moments, leaving Mordecai alone with Rigby and Rye once again.

"Wow!" The small raccoon was quick to begin the dramatics and sarcasm after Muscle Man and High-five Ghost's departure. "I've never seen a GIRL turn down Muscle Man before." He added a roll of his eyes.

Rye released a small chuckle as she turned back around to face the future garden. "Not really my type."

Mordecai felt a smile take over his features. "Good to know."

Act End


	5. Act Five

Java Chip Frappe

Act Five

Maybe she had overreacted yesterday. Then again that stupid little rat came into _her_ work place and insulted _her_ food? Unacceptable! A place that she would have to work everyday? She wouldn't be able to show her face in front of her co-workers ever again! Why hadn't anyone told her before that her cake-skills sucked? Had Margaret and Eileen forced smiles and thumbs-up when they tasted her food? No! She refused to accept it! It went further then to just insult her…

…it hurt her feelings.

But she would never allow anyone else to know the truth, besides Rye of course. She wouldn't allow anyone else to ever taste her cooking again. Of course, that ideal went out the window when Rye decided to bring the tuna noodle casserole _she_ made for lunch earlier that morning. Beyond all the promises she made to herself the night before, Rye had brought a meal for everyone to taste. Was her older sister doing this for a reason?

Either way there wasn't much she could do about it now; everyone had eaten her food. The 'reviews' seemed positive for the most part but there was still that lingering thought that haunted her memories.

"_Betty Crocker makes a better cake."_

Damn, why did criticism have to hurt so much?

"Oh, here we are!"

Heather snapped out of her mental ramble at the sound of Pops' voice. She jerked her head right and left, trying her best to regain her reality. That's right, she was walking through the park along side Pops with the promise of seeing the snack bar.

The older male darted out in front of her and skipped his way toward the large building that seemed to be placed in the middle of nowhere. The smell of food cooking entered her nose and caused her mouth to water. What the heck? She just ate! Ugh, maybe Muscle Man _was_ right, she needed a bigger portion.

Heather followed after Pops and soon found herself standing in front of the snack bar. Skips stood behind the desk, taking orders. A short line of visitors stood in line, waiting to give the large male their orders. He was working alone? Maybe he needed help?

"Hea, this way!"

She jerked to the call of her name. She looked forward to see Pops standing at the side of the building; she followed after him once again. A large door labeled 'Employees Only' blocked her way from inside the bar, but Pops wasted no time in opening the door and stepping in.

Dare she follow? She wasn't an employee but… what the heck? Why not?

Heather entered the bar, the smell of the frying hotdogs now taking over her nostrils completely. The bar appeared much bigger when she stood outside, but inside it seemed awfully cramped. How did someone of Skips' size work under these conditions? Ugh, and that was mentioning the heat emitting from the stove.

She looked to the right side of the bar to see that there were in fact a dozen hotdogs on the stove, sizzling away to a golden brown perfection. If she weren't already full of casserole, she wouldn't hesitate to take one for herself. The baker jerked her attention back to Skips to see that he was working away without distraction, so he didn't care if she and Pops entered?

"Its small in here," Heather said aloud. "Is it hard to work in this heat?" She looked to Pops.

"If you're warm you can go to the refrigerator!" He pranced toward a large door in the back of the snack bar. He wrapped his pale fingers around the metal knob and pulled open the door.

A rush of cool air hit Heather's face and pushed back the short strands of hair in front of her forehead. She felt a round of goosebumps erupt on her upper arms as she took in he chilly wind. Ah, so Pops knew of all the 'cool' places to chill? How creative! She took a few steps forward into the fridge to escape the heat of the stove. As she entered the large room, Pops stepped along side with her.

Her girlish excitement could hardly be contained. It was a combination of her childish curiosity and baker instinct to check all of the goods in the snack bar's refrigerator. "Let's see what we have here."

She pressed through the room and allowed her eyes to scan the many shelves. Large cardboard boxes littered the ledges, most marked 'premium hotdogs', whatever that meant. She then found a large supply of condiments and a crate that contained massive blocks of cheddar cheese. Talk about a cook's paradise!

"Hea?" Pops soft tone broke Heather out of her thoughts. "Do you smell something odd?"

Odd? Like what? She paused for a moment before lifting her nose into the air. She inhaled through her nostrils and waited a moment or two. Wait, something _did_ smell…bad…

"I do smell something, now that you mention it." She replied, as her nose led the way to the back of the room. "What do you think it is?"

"I can't say I've smelled anything like that before," He hummed, bringing his finger to his lip. "It almost smells like spoiled food."

Spoiled food? That made sense, seeing as they were standing in the refrigerator for the snack bar. "When was the last time anyone cleaned out this place?"

"Well," Pops' pitch lightened. "I believe that's Rigby's job."

"Ahhhh," Heather's nose curled, more of the stench entering her nose. "Let's find it and get rid of it."

"Couldn't agree with you more!"

Heather pushed forward, much to her stomach's dismay until she reached the back of the chilly room. As she approached the last few shelves in the fridge, she saw that they were filled with plastic containers and open boxes. The smell was at its peek as she reached down into the first plastic container and pulled off the lid.

Just when she thought the smell couldn't get any stronger.

Her stomach tossed and turned at the horrid smell hit the air. Her hand shot up to her nose before she could think twice. She pinched her nostrils shut while her eyes began to well. Ugh! Now all of her heavy casserole was fighting back with her, she could taste the tuna in the back of her throat.

"What is it?" Pops said, his voice strained.

Heather pressed forward and squinted her eyes, clearing her vision. In the container was a mess of old lettuce, or what she could assume to be lettuce, at the bottom. Most of the vegetable had already become a pile of brown-blackish mush that clung to the walls of the box; there was no saving _any_ of it.

"Ick!" Heather nearly gagged after opening her mouth, inhaling more of the smell.

"It doesn't look like we can salvage any of it. What a pity." Pops replied, hanging over Heather's shoulder.

"Don't get too close," Heather glanced back at the older gentlemen. "Here, let me throw it out."

Without having to warn him a second time, she watched as he moved out her way. The female chef glimpsed to the corner of the room to see a large garbage bin; ah it was the perfect place to dispose of the killer cabbage. Using all of her strength she lifted the plastic container and began to trot toward the bin. The sound of the fluids swishing about at the bottom of the box threatened her to gag for a second time. She was going to get rid of it for good!

She stood over the bin, staring down at what little garbage lingered at the base. Dare she 'just drop it' into the trash bin? Then again, that would risk having the lettuce 'juice' fly back up into her face, ick, better be safe than sorry. Heather moved her arms down into the bin, her arms scrapping against the black garbage bag that lined the tub. She flinched as smells of trash entered her nose, the smell of the rotting vegetables never letting up. Once she was able to feel the bottom of the plastic container hit the rubbish in the tub, she released it.

Heather pulled her torso out of the bin and stretched her back. Ugh, she needed to wash her hands as soon as possible!

"Something over here still smells." Pops spoke out, his attention drawn to the vegetable shelf continuing.

_More_? She resisted the urge to groan and throw her arms into the air. Ah, as long as she was here, she might as well! Heather reached out and took the garbage tub by the handle and began to pull it toward the horrid stinking vegetable shelf.

"This one is just dreadful!" The older male said, pointing toward a _cardboard_ box.

Cardboard? Could it get any worse! That meant that if any thing _was_ leaking, it was more than likely the bottom was soaked through. But, there was only one way to find out. Heather inhaled a deep breath of air and held it in her cheeks. She rushed at the box and lifted it, her fingers sinking into the failing cardboard. She jerked her torso around and dumped the box into the bin. Why even look at it, the stink told the whole story!

She released her held breath before speaking, "Let's get rid of everything that's nasty," Heather turned up to Pops and tried her best to flash a pleasant smile.

"Good idea!" He clapped his hands together.

"Okay," She turned to the condiment shelf and pointed her index finger outward. "You look at all the expiration dates on the condiments. I'll stay over here with the vegetables." Her head sank into her shoulders with displeasure.

He didn't bother to give her a verbal response, but instead stepped toward his directed destination with a cheerful giggle. He went to work within seconds, pulling out each container and reading the dates. Heather then spun back around to look at the long line of work she had coming her way.

She should be getting paid to do this.

XoXoX

The sound the refrigerator door creaking open caught Heather off guard, in fact she jumped straight upward. The light coming in front the outside caused her to narrow her eyes and struggle to recognize the silhouette that was coming at her. Why did the sudden feeling that she had been caught doing something bad source her fear? Wait, maybe she _was_ stepping beyond her own boundaries. She froze over with dread.

Skips entered the fridge and glanced for a single moment at Pops, who continued his work, then back at her. "What are you doing?"

"Getting rid of all the expired food?" She said in a small voice.

"Expired?" Skips asked in question. "There shouldn't be any expired food in here."

"Oh but there was!" Pops was quick to vouch in Heather's defense. "Look at this,"

Skips tore his eyes off the lone female and turn toward his boss' son. He glanced down to see the jar of mayonnaise he held in hand. Heather felt a small weight lifted off her shoulders as the large yeti scanned his eyes over the small date printed on the label.

"This mayo is over a year old!" Skips' cheek twitched.

"And there was more," Pops looked up to Skips with a glowing smile. "Hea found a multitude of spoiled vegetables!"

Beads of sweat moved down the side of her head. What was he going to say? Would he be mad? He was so large and seemed so overbearing, she could only imagine he would grow mad with all the movement back in the fridge. She allowed her head to sink down between her shoulders and waited for his response.

"Is that right?"

"Y-yes," She said with a shallow nod.

"Well," He inhaled a deep breath through his nose. "This _should_ have been cleared out long before now. But I appreciate you doing it."

Heather felt a lung-full of nervous giggles exit her lips. "That's all you guys need, a lawsuit after someone eats bad mayo." She then straightened out her back, feeling more confident than moments ago. "I've seen it before, it's not fun."

"Oh?" He cocked a brow.

"It must have been terrible!" Pops ran along side Heather with a set of wide eyes.

"Yeah," She smiled, the sweat moving down her temple.

"Anyway," Skips cleared his throat; "I came back here to get more dogs for the grill."

She watched as the large man pushed by Pops and walked to the 'meat' shelf. He tore open a box and pulled out a small package of franks. This time being sure to reread over the expiration date, he moved back toward the refrigerator entrance.

So he was going back to cooking? Why did that strike her heart? Wait; was this the sudden urge to _want_ to cook? Then again, she had promised herself otherwise. She couldn't cook again, not after what happened the other day at the shop. Not after promising herself she would demote her status to waitress and stay addicted to frozen meals!

Not after having her food criticized.

Then again, she had the right to make one last meal, didn't she? This one last time and besides, it wasn't _really_ cooking, was it? It was throwing a few dogs on the stove! It was merely heating the meat through! She could do this, this one last time.

Heather launched one foot forward and called out, "Skips!"

The large male turned around at the call of his name and watched her with steel stare. "What?"

"Would you mind if…" A bright red streak ran over her cheeks. "If I cooked them?"

He continued to stare her down, his eyes never letting up. His frown stayed as still as the stale air in the room. Was he disgusted perhaps? Maybe he didn't enjoy the casserole she had made earlier and refused to have her cook for the visitors of the park.

"It would give you time to serve other customers and make things go twice as fast…" She tried for a second time to state her case.

She watched as he remained still. She felt her head sink back into her neck again. She had made him angry, she knew it. Ugh! Why did she have to be so stupid sometimes! This was the perfect sign from above, telling her she should never cook/bake again! She shut her eyes tight and bit down on her lower lip, as she wanted for the embarrassment to be over.

"Come on then."

Her eyes snapped open. Her eyes rushed up from the floor and landed on Skips' face. He know had a small smile tugging at his lips and his energy had shifted. Within seconds of him speaking, she felt the heat from her face fade. Her own smile cracked along her face and she resisted the urge to squeal with joy.

"Okay," She clenched her fists in front of her chest. "If I'm going to be cooking, I'll make my Mom's favorite."

"That sounds wonderful!" Pops yipped with glee. "What is it?"

"You'll find out," Heather waved a single finger at the two men. "I'm going to get the ingredients and I'll be with you two in a minute." She focused her attention on Skips for a second, "Tell any customers that we're having a bacon cheddar hotdog special!"

Skips nodded his head a single time. "Alright." He then stepped out of the fridge and back to the register.

"What do we need?" Pops interlaced his fingers and beamed.

"A few things," Heather lifted her hand to her chin. "Cheese, bacon, buns and those premium dogs."

Pops rushed behind the female and placed both hands on her back. He began to apply a gentle pressure to her body, forcing her out into the daylight. She flinched upon contact, looking backward with a confused gaze. "What-"

"You get started," He explained, "I'll get the ingredients."

"But…"

"Go on now!" He peeped.

She didn't need to be told three times. Moving one foot in front of the other she began to make her way out into the sun. She glanced over her shoulder a single time to see the older male running about the room, gathering and juggling all of the needed ingredients in both hands. She had to admit to herself, it was quite cute.

Only if everyone else was as supportive, maybe then this wouldn't have to be her last time cooking.

Act End


	6. Act Six

Java Chip Frappe

Act Six

If Mordecai had a watch, he'd totally be checking the time by now. It _had_ to be at least 5 or 6 in the evening. How much longer was Rye going to take? Sure they had moved around the park a little but this was getting ridiculous! Gardening _should not_ take this much effort. By this time Rigby had fallen fast asleep beneath a shady tree and snored loud enough to wake the dead; it wasn't like the blue jay could blame him, this was pretty dull.

The sound of a cellular phone vibrating alerted Mordecai. He jerked out of his position, laying against the cart, and turned to Rye's direction. He was left to assume she had a phone, seeing as he and Rigby didn't have theirs on them.

The older female reached down into her jean pocket and pulled out her small black flip phone. With a single flick of her thumb the phone opened leaving her to tap the red button a single time. She pressed the earpiece against her ear and waited.

"Maggie?" She cocked a brow as she spoke, "Yeah, I know where she is."

Margaret? Rye was speaking to Margaret? Mordecai felt his body fling in her direction, in the hope of overhearing some of their conversation.

Rye shifted her weight to her left leg and waited a few moments. "Oh? Is she feeling okay?"

Was someone sick? The tall blue jay felt his heart rate rise, maybe Margaret was ill? He waited on end, watching every move Rye made.

"Ah, I see." She nodded her head once. "Sure. I'll tell her. Later." The landscapist then pulled her phone away from her ear. With a single tap she shut off the line and proceeded to shove her cell phone into her pocket.

"Is someone sick?" Mordecai didn't waste a second in asking.

A smirk moved across Rye's lips. She then placed both hands to her hips and lifted a brow. "What's it to you?" She said in a sly tone.

"Uh," He felt his face grow warm. "I was…uhh…was just worried. That's all."

"Sure, okay." Rye rolled her large brown eyes and passed by the taller male, making her way toward the small, white golf cart. "We have to get back."

Mordecai stepped toward the sleeping raccoon. With a single tap on the shoulder, the brown mammal began to stir. He groaned once or twice before sitting upward and rubbing his eyes. His eyes opened in a sluggish motion and he cleared his throat before speaking, "Are we still on the job?"

"Kind of," Mordecai felt a smile claim his features. "We just have to drive Rye back to the house."

"Cool, cool." Rigby pushed his small body off the grass.

"We have to find Heather first," Rye broke into the conversation, half of her body hanging out of the golf cart. "Turns out Eileen has come down with a cold, Hea has to take her shift tonight."

"She's sick?" Mordecai arched a brow. "Is she gonna be okay?"

"Oh sure," The older female nodded a single time. "I just have to get the news back to Hea, otherwise she'll be late."

"Hey," The tallest male glanced down at his shorter counterpart with a cheesy smile. "Maybe you should drop by Eileen's place and check on her, Rigby. She'd totally dig it."

"What?" The raccoon jerked backward a few steps. "You're nuts, man! Not cool!"

Mordecai allowed his head to shake from side to side as chuckles exited his mouth. He then pressed onward to the cart, ready to take the driver's seat. He allowed his lower half to hit the seat and placed his fingers around the stirring wheel. "Come on," He beckoned Rigby to follow. "Let's find Heather and end the day."

"Fine by me," Rigby's nose shot upward as he stepped toward the cart. "I'm ready for dinner."

XoXoX

Mordecai had to admit sunsets at the park were pretty. The mixture and blending of oranges, pinks, and reds were something only someone who stayed in the park over night could enjoy. He tried his best to be grateful for it, but after awhile of working hours at the park the sight _did_ get a bit stale.

These were one of those evenings where he appercaited being out.

The cool spring air passed through his feathers and relaxed him. He kept his hands on the stirring wheel while his foot lightly tapped at the gas. The house was in sight; it was just a matter of time before they reached it. Perhaps sprucing up the park wasn't such a bad idea; after all, he _was_ meeting a few cool chicks.

It had been a long while since he or Rigby had a lot of socializing with girls other than Margaret and Eileen. Not that anyone could replace those two. But being cool with other females wasn't a bad thing, was it? It didn't mean he was choosing one over the other, did it?

"Is that Muscle Man up there?"

Mordecai narrowed his eyes at the steps that led up to the house. Rigby's eyes hadn't failed him; Muscle Man and High-five Ghost were in fact sitting on the stairs, doing something. The tall bird applied more pressure to the gas, closing the distance between the cart and the house. Once within shouting range, he pressed on the brakes.

Rye stood up in her seat and called out to the two boys. "Hey!" She cupped her mouth with her right hand. "Have you two seen Heather?"

Muscle Man tore his attention away from the food he held in his hand long enough to glance up at Rye. He watched for a second before lifting his hotdog back to his mouth. He bit into the dog without mercy, cheese and bacon sticking to his cheeks.

"She's at the snack bar," High-five Ghost answered for his buddy.

"Yeah," Muscle Man managed to speak between chewing. "She's making some really good hotdog things."

Rye removed her hand from her mouth and whirled around to face both Mordecai and Rigby. Her eyes locked with Rigby's eyes first then shifted to his seconds after. Was she surprised? Both of her eyebrows had arched to the top of her forehead while her eyes dilated to a size Mordecai hadn't seen before.

She turned away from the boys and faced Muscle Man once again. "What do you mean she's making them?" She asked, her voice low and serious.

The short, green male lifted his arm to his chin and began to wipe his face with his forearm. He smeared the left over food on his face onto his limb before gasping for air after swallowing the food in his mouth. "I mean, she MADE this dog," He grunted, obviously growing frustrated with the trio.

"But…" Rye moved her index finger over her chin and hummed.

"What's the big deal?" Rigby flung his upper torso over the leg Rye kept inside the cart. "Doesn't she ALWAYS cook?"

"Yeah," Mordecai was quick to agree. "She's probably enjoying it."

Rye pulled back her right leg and took her seat back inside the vehicle. The look of worry and wonder never leaving her face. What was the matter? Wasn't the idea of Heather cooking a _good thing_? Girls worried way too much than they needed to.

"Let's find her."

That was all the confirmation he needed. After making sure everyone was seated, Mordecai put the vehicle in drive and pressed on the gas. There wasn't a second to waste, apparently. Rye's mood had changed so drastically, it was almost as if she were a different person. Was she really that concerned with her younger sister? What's the worst that could happen to her if she _was_ cooking?

He wasn't sure but he was going to find out.

He knew his way around the park like the back of his hand; it took no time getting to the snack bar. At least it no time for _him_ anyway, the look of worry only grew on Rye's face. Mordecai found himself pushing his foot on the gas a bit harder, the idea of having the worried elder sister wait wasn't something he thought was cool. The sooner he could show Rye Heather was safe, the better.

He put on the brakes right in front of the snack bar. He looked to his right to see the bar with the large _'OPEN'_ sign switched to the _'CLOSED'_ side. Right before anyone in the cart could move, Skips, Pops and Heather exited the employee's entrance.

Rye flew out of her seat and charged at her sister, the look of concern now changing to a relieved smile. "Heather," She said in a sweet tone, "Are you okay?"

The younger sibling cocked a brow in question. "Of course."

"Told you things would be cool." Rigby was second to leave the cart.

After a moment passed, Mordecai felt a familiar scent tickle his nostrils. Wait; was that _bacon_ he was smelling? But it wasn't just the smell of bacon that made his mouth water; there was also a heavy scent of cheese that lingered in the air.

"What IS that smell?" Rigby had to have been thinking the same thing. "Is that BACON?"

"And cheese?" Mordecai finished for his smaller friend.

"Yes, yes." Pops shut his eyes and grinned. "Hea thought of the most delicious idea and made some really tasty dogs!"

"Are there anymore?" Rigby asked, jaw hanging wide open.

Skips jerked his thumb in the direction of the snack bar. "There should be a few in the back."

Without waiting for a response, Rigby fell to all fours and barged his way into the snack bar. The door slammed behind him, leaving the five men and women to themselves.

Mordecai turned to Heather, not able to hide his widening smile. "So what did you make?"

A light red flash appeared on her cheeks as she shut her eyes and shrugged her shoulders. "Its just a hotdog split in half, filled with cheese slices then wrapped in bacon." The red complexion on her face deepened in color. "Nothing big."

"She stuffed them in the broiler also!" Pops was quick to add.

"It smells great, man." Mordecai nodded his head once. "You gotta make that for our game nights, sometime. It'll be a big hit with all us guys."

"Whatever."

Just then the employee door swung open and out walked Rigby, hotdog in hand. Mordecai was left to assume that the raccoon had placed the dog in the microwave for a few quick seconds, due to the melting cheese that oozed out of the bun. Cheese-covered fingers wrapped around the dog as he lifted it to his mouth and took a large bite.

"Ah man," He said after a few seconds of happy chewing. "You even used the premo-dogs!"

"What?" Skips' stiffened before turning to Heather. "You used the premium hotdogs?"

The young pastry chef allowed her eyes to flutter open. "Of course," She said with pride laced in her pitch. "I'm not going to serve customers generic brand meat. That's an insult to me _and_ them."

No! Ugh! This was awful! Before he could control his arm, his hand lifted up to his face and slapped his cheek. Why hadn't anyone told her before she began cooking that using the premium hotdogs were completely OFF limits unless Benson said so? "Benson is gonna have a cow!" He groaned as his wing slid off his face.

Skips crossed his muscular arms over his chest. "How many did we use?" He eyed Heather as he spoke.

"Uh," Heather lifted her index finger to her bottom lip. "I think there were two or three packages left."

Two or THREE? This was worse than he originally thought! It wasn't just the fact that she used the bacon, which was meant for special occasions but she also used almost _all_ of the premium franks? The ones saved for _once in a lifetime _occasions? Oh and throw in the fact that someone who didn't even work here 'okayed' the whole operation.

Yeah, they had a lot of shouting to endure once Benson found out.

"This is NUTS!" Mordecai removed his hand from his face. "Benson's gonna kill us! All of us!"

"Wait, wait," Rye lifted both hands to settle the heated conversation. "He won't get too upset, right? Its just hotdogs."

Rigby took a long, hard swallow before speaking, "You don't know Benson." He was still enjoying his meal obviously.

"Dude!" Mordecai rushed at his bestie. "You're being hella calm for someone who's gonna get in a mess of trouble! We're ALL in a lot of trouble!"

"Hey," Rigby shrugged his little shoulders, "I'm not taking the heap for this, _she_," He nudged his snout in Heather's direction. "Is."

"Ugh!" The blue jay's arms flung into the air, "Don't you get it! We're all going to have to pay for this!"

"Oh my…" Pops' trademark smile faded.

This was worse than worse, they had a lot of yelling and scolding coming their way. He could hear it now, the sound of Benson's shouting voice vibrating through the house and park. Then he would dock the expense of the hotdogs from everyone's pay. Not cool, not cool at all!

"Who cares!"

Mordecai flinched. What the heck? Who would be stupid enough to say something like _that_ in _this_ situation?

Heather stood up straight, puffed out her chest and shut her eyes. With a deep and confident voice she spoke, "Their just hotdogs! If this 'Benson' guy is gonna throw a BF over it, then he can come and talk to me!"

The bird resisted the urge to facepalm again. Bold words coming from someone who had yet to battle the beast, this wasn't going to turn out well, he could feel it.

"Look," Skips unfolded his arms and looked each individual down. "We won't say anything to Benson. He'll have to find out on his own. It's the best way to avoid any trouble…for now."

That was a great 'band aid' idea, but what other choice did they have? Mordecai lifted his arm into the air and nodded. "Agreed, agreed?" He asked, looking at the people standing around him.

"Agreed."

After making a secret promise amongst each other, Rye stepped forward. She looked at her younger half as if a mental light bulb had gone off in her mind. With a quick snap of her fingers she spoke out, "Oh! Heather, I forgot to tell you!"

"What now?" Heather twitched.

"Maggie called," Rye said in a rushed voice. "She wants you to take Eileen's shift, she caught a flu!"

"WHAT?" The youngest girl flew backward with shock. "When?"

Rye jerked her chin up until she spotted the small digital clock that hung in the snack bar wall. She narrowed her eyes for a moment before turning back to her sis. "In an hour?" She released a few nervous giggles.

"An hour?" Heather's hands flew to her head. "But I'm all sweaty from working at the stove! That means I'll have to run home take a shower _and_ get on my uniform!" The baker flew outward and took her sister by the arms; shaking her she asked in a frantic tone, "I need the car! There's no way I can run home and back in time!"

Rye reached down into her back pocket and pulled out her black car keys. "Here, now hurry!"

The smallest female ripped the keys from her elder's hands and spun around. She waved a single time at the men standing before her before dashing off toward the house. Her image soon faded from sight, leaving the group with one less female.

"What a day!" Pops was first to speak out after Heather's departure. "I am quite tired, aren't you all?"

"Yeah," Mordecai had to agree. "I'm beat."

"I guess I'm walking home." Rye sighed to herself.

"No worries," Mordecai flashed a smile her way. "I was supposed to with you anyway, remember?"

"Ah. I remember."

"Why don't you stay for awhile, Rye?" Pops asked in a cheery, excited voice. "You should rest before such a long walk back home!"

A small trickle of sweat dripped down the female's temple. "Its only about four blocks," She giggled. "I should be fine."

"Ah, stay will ya?" Skips managed to smile. "It's been a while since we've had company. Besides there are plenty of those bacon cheese dogs left."

She took in a deep breath through her nose and paused for a moment. Her eyes fell on each male before she finally relented and nodded her head. "Fine, but just for a bit."

"Grab some of those greasy dogs!" Rigby threw his free arm into the air. "We're gonna PAR-TAY!"

XoXoX

Spring nights weren't as comfortable as summer nights, but Mordecai couldn't complain. It could be worse; it could be winter, right? Ugh, why couldn't he just take one of the golf carts? Damn Benson and his tight, lame rules. Ah, at least there was someone to talk to at least for one way. And Rye seemed pretty cool, he didn't know her very well but she was worth talking to.

The cool air was refreshing after the warm day beneath the sun. He might as well enjoy it while it lasted, summer was right around the corner. Many summer nights had been spent with the window open and the fan blaring but they were pleasant memories. Hopefully this summer would be one of those memorable years.

They had stepped out of the house and into the street, their laughs and light energy still lingering from the episode in the house. It had been a few weeks since all the guys, minus Benson, had gotten together and celebrated. And the addition of Rye? It was nice. She kept quiet, unless spoken to, but she was enjoyable nonetheless. Maybe she needed more time before coming out of her shell, either way it was good night spent together.

"I can't believe its already 9!" Rye said as she stepped out into the sidewalk, the glow from the streetlights shining on her features.

Mordecai finished a round of laughter before replying, "I know! Ah, it's been awhile since we all hung out like that."

"All?" Rye lifted a brow.

"Expect for Benson," He was quick to correct himself. "We try to have game nights every week but we've been wrapped up in work lately." He explained, a few stray chuckles leaving his mouth. "We hafta do this again, with Benson."

Rye managed to smirk, her brow still arched in question. "Oh yeah? He joins in on he fun too?"

"He tries," Mordecai tore his eyes off the streetlight in front of him and looked to the ground. "He can loosen up if he wants."

"Sounds like we have two shells to crack," Rye continued to speak to him, her eyes never leaving him.

"Two?" Mordecai lifted a brow, his eyes still stuck to his moving feet.

"Yeah! Benson _and_ Heather!" Rye bursted out into a fit of giggles, "They're both too stubborn to let loose!"

Three shells actually. Of course he wouldn't say it aloud, but he knew that Rye's shell also needed 'cracking'. Maybe she wasn't aware of it, but she was also shy too. That was written all over her glass-framed face. A few chuckles here and there were not enough to 'loosen up'. But was it a matter of being stubborn? He couldn't be sure, by her actions and attitude, Rye was anything but stubborn. At least when it came to anything but Heather's well-being.

"Yeah," He coughed, he would agree _for now_.

"Seems pretty fun," As she stepped forward, her right foot kicked a small stone that crossed her path. "Living with a bunch like that."

"Eh, believe it or not, there are times when it can be pretty lame."

"Oh yeah?" Her pitched changed as her interest peaked.

"Uh-huh."

What the heck? What was with the sudden awkward air between them? When did things become so one-sided and when did the one-word answers begin? Ugh, this was like talking to…to a stranger! Which was true, to a point but then again, it shouldn't be this way not after the day they had spent together!

He had to change the subject and _fast_. Maybe if he asked her a question that had a long answer, he'd waste more time listening and not talking. That would make time pass faster!

"So," He blurted out at once and turned to face her, "You support your two sisters?" Ah God, where did _that_ come from?

"Yep," Rye said with a small nod.

"Must be hard." He cleared his throat after speaking. Geez, what a way to start the most awkward conversation ever!

"Heather helps with her job at the Coffee Shop though." Rye turned away from him, her focus on her future steps. "Ailea trying her best to find a job anywhere."

"Ailea," He began in a softer tone, "Is she the youngest?"

"Yeah."

And that was another thing, why did every conversation made with Rye have to contain something about her younger sisters? Why couldn't she just talk about herself once and while? It must be one of those 'girl' issues, the kind that only other girls knew about. What the heck was _he_ supposed to do about it? He had no idea what to say next!

"I'm pretty dedicated to them."

He flinched. Oh damn, she was talking again. Was he supposed to respond or just let her ramble on?

"Ever since we left our parent's place, we've had it kind of hard." She inhaled a deep breath through her nose and released it in the form of a sigh. "I know Ailea wants to go back but Heather's pride comes in the way every time."

"She does seem that type." He managed a few words, quick to agree with the older female. Dare he go _against_ what she was saying? Chicks didn't dig that kind of thing, right?

"So you've noticed?" Rye managed to break into a smile, finally able to turn his way.

"Kinda hard not to." Oh crap! Did he just insult Heather? Shoot, that was a no-no, wasn't it!

"_I'll let it slide _once_ but next time you won't be able to eat solid foods."_

This was it, he was sure of it! Ugh, why did he have to say such stupid stuff when he was nervous? This was one of those rare times when he wished he had Rigby's confidence. Mordecai forced a smile while his brows hung heavy over his eyes. He released a few tense giggles before ducking back down between his shoulders.

Rye threw her head back and laughed. Wait, she was _laughing_? Oh gee, what did _that_ mean? On minute she was defending her sister to the end, the next she was laughing at her younger sister's expense? It was official, girls were now more confusing than ever.

"Lighten up, Mordecai."

His tense and frozen muscles began to melt away. His shoulders relaxed and he was able to stand straight. The forced smile faded and he was left with a look of confusion stuck to his mug. Lighten up? That was it?

"Anyway," Rye turned away from the blue jay, looking forward into the darkness of the streets. "We're just trying to make ends meet right now. That's why this landscaping job is so important to me. It'll really help us out."

Mordecai gulped hard before attempting to speak again. "I know how it is. Rigby and I are broke twenty-four seven."

"I'm supposin' work at a park like that doesn't pay much."

"Nah, but we have a place to stay and food to eat."

"That's better than nothing right?"

"Hell yeah."

Well, it did beat living in an expensive apartment, paying rent and utilities every month if that's what she meant. Living with Pops might have its downside but it did cost a hell of a lot less than it would if he and Rigby were on their own. Whatever, beggars can't be choosers in any event.

"Having to pay all the utilities are killin' us," She repeated her sigh. "Not to mention I'm still paying off that damn 360."

Mordecai felt his heart nearly jump right out of his ribcage. Did this _chick_ just say what he thought she said? No way! He jerked in her direction, halting his steps in the process. "360 as in Xbox360?"

Rye stopped about three steps after the male and turned her chin over her shoulder to face him. With a confused stare she responded, "Yeah, of course."

"Whoa!" His arms shot outward and his jaw dropped. "You have an Xbox? That's so awesome!"

Rye's facial features lightened and she managed to laugh. "It is a pretty cool console. I had to get it, after all Left 4 Dead is an exclusive on it."

Just when he thought his jaw couldn't drop and lower, it did. "Left 4 Dead?"

Rye laughter came to a slow stop and her expression once again returned to a puzzled stare. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Mordecai had to force his head from side to side. This was impossible! A chick playing a zombie game? It was just too crazy to be real. All the girls he knew never liked any of those games, so why was Rye different? She had to be lying, right?

"Dude!" Mordecai felt his body jolt forward, to catch up with the older woman. "You play L4D? That's so cool, Rigby and I haven't even played it yet!"

"Play it?" Rye snorted. "I own it." She added a wink to the end of her sentence.

"That is so COOL!" He said as he shook his balled fists. "You hafta bring it to the house, that way Rigby and I can try!"

Rye shifted her posture and lifted her right hand to her face. She cupped her chin and proceeded to hum to herself. "Hm, I don't know, it can be pretty hard for first-timers."

"Aw!" He gushed at the thought of battling zombies along side his best bud.

"Aaaaaand Heather and I are on _'advanced'_." She presented a wicked smirk that spread across her freckled cheeks.

"Really?"

"It took some extreme training but yes." Rye removed her hand from her chin and placed it on her hip. "I suppose we can bring it by one of these days." She spoke as the evil grin on her face reduced to a sweet smile. "But you hafta be _my_ partner first."

"Whuuuut?" Mordecai forced his arms over his chest. "Rigby will hate that."

Rye's bottom lip shot out. "Too bad."

"Ugh," He groaned in a playful manner. "Fine but just once then Rigby and I play all night long."

She shrugged her shoulders and chuckled. "Cool with me."

"It's a date."

Act End


	7. Act Seven

Java Chip Frappe

Act Seven

Now that he knew where Rye and Heather's house was located it was much easier to find. This made the walk much shorter than it had been last night or at least it seemed that way. Although sleeping through the entire night was a different story; with the promise of playing the best zombie slasher still fresh in Mordecai's mind, it was hard to sleep!

Even if they hadn't set up a play date yet.

He was going to make a date today, for sure. He wasn't sure how many nights he could go without getting some good old fashion R.E.M sleep! Ugh, it was just too awesome! What else was he _supposed_ to think about?

"Is this it?"

He flinched. The sound of Rigby's voice was always welcome even if he was a 'bit' distracted. Mordecai was sure that the smaller raccoon was just as excited about the game, the look on his face when he told the mammal about it, he could see the joy in his eyes. Of course even if Rigby didn't _seem_ frightened just yet, Mordecai knew that a few midnight walks to the bathroom would ensue.

But it was worth it. Totally worth it.

The tall blue jay turned in Rigby's direction and nodded. The small one-story house they were now standing in front of was Rye's. Typical house, nothing special on the outside but of course that made it more difficult to tell apart from all the others. It was just his luck that the garage door was pulled open and the image of Rye standing in there was there to reassure him.

She stood beside her small black Volkswagen beetle, her back facing the outside world. She seemed to be doing something, perhaps she was gathering together the many bags of soil and fertilizer Benson in formed them about. That was their mission for the day after all; help Rye bring all those heavy bags to the park.

Ugh, this wasn't gonna be fun at all.

"Hey Rye!" Mordecai was first to call out.

The shorter female stiffened before whirling around to face the two boys. She flashed a pleasant smile while the sun's rays bounced beams off her glasses. Her hair was still wrapped in a tight bun that hung on the back of her head. She was obviously ready for work!

"Hey guys," She said with a single arm lifted. "I'm glad you're here, I don't think I could lift all this stuff by myself."

What did she mean by _'all this stuff'_? Mordecai allowed his eyes to move from Rye down to the pile of assorted bags on the garage floor. Huge bags, surely weighing over six pounds a bag sat by the door, ready for delivery. There had to be more than ten, easy. What the heck? They didn't need _that_ many bags, did they?

Geez.

"ALL OF THIS?" Rigby's jaw dropped.

"Wait," Mordecai lifted his arm. "If you just bought these, what are they doing outside the car?"

"Ah," Rye lifted her index finger to the bridge of her glasses. "I had them ordered and delivered here." She explained with a small smile. "Lowe's did it over night."

Rigby's shocked expression shifted to an angered one. "Why didn't you get them delivered to the park?"

Rye's eyebrows jerked to the top of her forehead and her mouth opened into a small 'o' shape. "I…uh…" A small pink flash appeared on her cheeks. "I didn't think of that…"

Rigby jerked his arm upward, his hand slapping the right side of his cheek. "Ugh! Leave it to a woman to-"

Mordecai felt his arm jerk outward, as if on cue and hit Rigby in the upper shoulder. This was a gesture that he had long grown used to doing, whether he knew he was doing it or not. Someone had to shut the young raccoon up once and awhile. He _did_ have a habit of opening his big yap at the worst times. Benson could testify to that.

"Ow!" Rigby didn't bother turning to his taller friend and instead grabbed at his left shoulder.

"Anyway," Rye cleared her throat, wanting to change the subject fast. "Heather dropped off the car earlier this morning when she was taking her break, that way I could use it to move the soil to the park."

The blue jay was quick to cock a brow at the female's last statement. "Heather's still at work?"

"Yep," Rye nodded. "She's gonna be pooped when she gets home."

Rigby took a few steps toward the small Volkswagen and placed a single paw on the car's door. He jerked around to Rye and frowned. "This gonna take at least TWO trips! Laaaaaaaaaame."

"I know," Rye shook her head from side to side. "What else are ya gonna do?" She asked in a singsong tone before turning back to the pile of heavy bags. "Let's get started, the sooner the better."

Rigby pushed his body away from the black vehicle and made his way back to the taller bird. He then stepped on his tiptoes and cupped his hand to his mouth. In a small, harsh whisper he began to speak in secret to Mordecai, "Why couldn't Benson ask Skips to do this? This is weak."

"Probably because he hates us, dude." He replied without having to whisper.

"Gaaaaaah." The brown mammal threw his arms in the air.

With a single bag in her arms, Rye stepped towards the male duo with a forced smile. "Okay, I'll get started in the trunk," She said, pushing passed the boys and moved toward the car. "You two can load the backseat."

Let a girl lift heavy bags of dirt by herself? No way. Mordecai didn't consider himself the gentlemen Pops was but he wasn't about to let a girl get hurt on his watch. It hurt his morals _and_ his employment status.

He turned with Rye and extended his arms out to the trunk's handle. He lifted the hood for her, allowing her to move the bag of soil into the back of the car. "I'll help you back here." He said with a smile.

"Oh?" Rye cocked a brow.

"Dude!" Rigby jerked backward in shock. "What the H? You're gonna make me do all the work up here?"

Mordecai's sweet smile shifted into a small scowl. He glared at his best bud while Rye turned away and went back for a second trip. While she stepped out of ear range, the blue bird hissed, "She's a _chick_, dude."

"Yeah?" Rigby crossed his furry arms over his chest. "So?"

He rolled his eyes. "Knock it off, Rigby."

"UGH!" The tiny male jerked away from his bestie, ready to give him the cold shoulder.

By this time Rye had come back to the trunk with a bag of fertilizer in hand. She bent forward in front of the trunk and placed the bag in the back. She then stood up straight and flashed a grin at Mordecai. "Thanks for the help."

He felt his heart jump. What the? What was with _that_? Why was she thanking him for something he _had _to do? He was getting paid to do this! He didn't need her to thank him. Instead of displaying his sudden change in heart rate, he shook his head from side to side and cracked a nervous smirk. "No prob."

He was quick to clear his throat, and tear his attention away from her and back to the task at hand. He moved over to the large bags and bent down. He slung the large bag over his shoulder and began making his way back to the car. Along the way he spotted Rigby, glancing over his shoulder, watching him.

Mordecai was sure to mouth the words 'get to work' before he continued to close the distance between himself and the car. The sound of Rigby's nails hitting the concrete floor let him know without looking that his best friend had begun working. Thank God for small miracles.

Removing the weight from his shoulder, Mordecai placed the dirt-filled bag in the trunk of the black Volkswagen. He made sure to push the bag toward the back of the trunk, leaving more space for more bags. As he pulled his torso out of the car, he saw a fourth bag hit the trunk's bottom. He looked to his left to see Rye bent down beside him. Without giving him a second glance, she pulled out and went for a fifth bag.

This was one determined chick.

The number of bags in the car grew. From six to eight then from nine to ten. The trunk was filled to what seemed to be the brim while the backseat was littered with plastic containers. Even if it took about five minutes it was work Mordecai didn't appreciate.

But making money was making money, wasn't it?

Mordecai looked from behind the car to see Rigby, shoving the door shut. He had pushed the last bag of soil into the backseat and quickly slammed the door, trying to make certain the door didn't pop back open. Ugh, a trick well learned from stacking many frozen meals in the freezer. Whatever, as long as the job got done.

"I'm glad you got this done before I got home."

The tall blue jay felt his eyes widen to the sound of Heather's voice. He turned his head to the sound of her voice and found himself staring at a very tired girl. Obvious bags under her eyes and untamed hair, she stood in the garage with a cargo-holder full of cups of coffee in hand.

"Hey!" Rye stepped passed both boys and greeted her sister with a wide smile. "How was work?"

"Long." Heather said in a low voice. "It'll be a miracle if I don't get fired, I was so tired I kept messing up orders." Her eyes then darted down to the cargo-holder. "Manager said I could take home the rejects."

"Aw, I'm sorry." Rye's features softened. "You _were_ up all night."

Heather's shoulders bobbed up and down a single time. "Whatever." Her eyes then moved to Rigby and Mordecai. "Hey, you two want some coffee?"

Mordecai and Rigby jerked away from Heather and looked back to one another. Was she serious? _She_, Heather, was offering them refreshments? It was almost too impossible to believe! Where did that beast of a chef they had met forty-eight hours ago, go?

Rigby looked away from the bird and back to the younger female, "Sure."

"Cool," She said in a tired tone. She then began to walk to the garage door and without looking over her shoulder continued to speak. "Come on, I'll get you some straws."

"Oh." Rigby turned once again to Mordecai, this time with a look of utter shock. "What the? Is that really Heather?"

"Yeah," Mordecai lifted his wing to his forehead. "She must be tired or something."

The raccoon was first to follow after Heather. "Whatever! Come on, free coffee!"

The taller male nodded. "Right behind you."

He took a single step forward toward the garage door. Out of the corner of his eye Rye stood, ready to enter the kitchen along with Rigby and Heather. He watched her as she began stepping forward, ahead of him, only to see her foot stumble beneath her. She released a low gasp as she tried to regain her balance, whirling her arms back and forth. Her best effort was not enough to keep her from toppling sideways.

Without having to think twice, Mordecai lunged forward, extending his arms as he did so. It took about two more seconds for the older female to fall into his wings. The weight of Rye caused him to bent forward and release a small 'oof' but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Her soft upper arms brushed against his feathers, causing an explosion of goosebumps to erupt all over his body.

And there it was again, that immense warmth. Where was it coming from? All that heat couldn't be coming from Rye; she didn't have a fever, did she? How could one person be so warm, it just wasn't natural!

"Oh geez," Rye's voice caused the goosebumps to reanimate. Just when he thought they had begun to fade.

A light scent wafted upward into his nostrils. It was a breezy floral scent that Mordecai could recall from smell by not by name. Damn, he knew what that smell was, he just couldn't think clearly. Especially not with a girl in his arms.

Soft, warm _and_ smelling sweet? Ugh! She was too much of a tomboy to feel /smell like this!

She glanced up to him, her brown eyes locking with his dark ones. Her glasses had begun to fall off the bridge of her nose, leaving no glass barrier between them. "Good thing I didn't fall, I always have a bad habit of twisting my ankle!"

Is _that_ what she was worried about? What the hell, man? The fact that she was hanging out of his arms didn't bother her? Geez, what was it with these girls! Girls always seemed to be a mystery and just when he thought he was beginning to understand Margaret, _this_ happens. Gah!

"I can't tell you how many times I've sprained my poor ankles." Rye's voice caught him off guard once again. He watched her small pale hand as it moved to her nose and adjusted her glasses.

Why did she have to look at him like that? With that nervous, embarrassed smile and that little bead of sweat that rolled down her temple? Damn he hated to call it _cute_. Cute just wasn't a word in his verbal dictionary! Not unless he was being sarcastic at the expense of Rigby of course but still!

He had to change the subject, and fast. Staying in this position would only pose many a comment from his best friend if caught in the act.

"Uh, you okay?" He managed to speak, even if his voice sounded a bit horse.

"Oh!" Rye nodded a single time. "Yes."

She wasted no time in taking his hint. She pushed her abdomen out of his arms and stood up straight. As she stood, she moved her right hand to her face and pushed away a stray hair that had moved in front of her eyes. The weight now lifted from his wings, Mordecai retracted them. He allowed the stale air in his lungs to release in the form of a sigh and he slouched a bit in posture.

Rye cleared her throat, catching his attention once again. "Thank you."

"No problem," He refused to look at her.

"Come on then," Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as she turned around and began to make a beeline for the kitchen.

Wait, when did it get so hot in an opened door garage? It was if the heat gathered around his face. No, no, that didn't mean he was _blushing_ did it? WHAT THE FRIKKIN' H, MAN? There was no way he was blushing! He wouldn't even acknowledge it, not like this. It was just to weird, man.

Just then Rigby's small torso appeared in the doorway of the garage/kitchen. "What are you waitin' for, Mordecai?"

"N-nothing!" He was quick to shoot the mammal a death glare.

"Come on," Rigby beckoned with a single paw, "Heather brought frappes!"

Frappes? Those cold blended coffee and mix mixes? The ones that were loaded with sugar and whipped cream? Not to mention that extra drizzle of either caramel or dark chocolate! Hell yeah! If there were frappes waiting in the kitchen, he wasn't going to stand around for too long!

Allowing the memories of the passed two seconds flee from his mind, Mordecai rushed his way into the kitchen. Heather stood at the counter as she divided the cups of coffee between everyone. She handed a rather large cup down to Rigby then headed his way with a second large cup.

Mordecai took the frosty plastic cup without hesitation and stared down at the mass mixture of cold blended coffee slush and melted whipped cream. Ah, he couldn't remember the last time he had a good frappe. Of course, this one had to be a few hours old but what the heck? Food was food, wasn't it?

"Its caramel." Heather said in a less than enthused voice.

Caramel, chocolate, coconut he didn't care! It was coffee, sugary and creamy, that's all that mattered! Even the fact that the whipped cream had all but melted away wasn't going to bring him down; this was the good stuff!

Only if Heather would tell him Margaret made it, then it would be perfect.

"Here's a straw." The baker was quick to hand him a large straw, just meant for drinking a thick frappe out of.

"Uh," Mordecai hesitated for a solid moment. "Thanks, Heather."

She shrugged a single time. It was apparent that she had no fight left in her today. So working had really tired her out? Working at a restaurant was a lot different from working at the park. Being on his feet all day taking orders from rude people was one thing Mordecai was grateful for not doing.

"I'mma hit the hay."

The taller blue bird watched as Heather turned her back to the group and without a second word, began her trot to the sleeping quarters of the small home. She took a single frappe along with her, why, Mordecai wasn't sure. If anything, coffee wouldn't put her to sleep but he wasn't going to argue.

"I feel bad," Rye spoke from the back of the kitchen. "If I had known it was going to take _this_ much out of her, I wouldn't have told Maggie she could take Eileen's shift."

"Not much you can do about it now." Rigby muttered as he wrapped his lips around the straw that connected to his frosty drink.

Rye released a long sigh before nodded to agree. "True." She then turned her back to the counter and leaned her lower back against it. Placing her curled index knuckle to her lip she continued, "Doing the planting tomorrow is gonna kill her."

Before he could begin taking tiny sips from his coffee, Mordecai pulled the straw away from his face and looked to the lone female. "We're starting the planting tomorrow?"

Had the flowers even arrived yet?

"If God's willing," Rye glanced in his direction. "The QVC tracking number said it should be here first thing in the morning."

Rigby tore himself away from his straw and with droplets of coffee hanging off his fur he said, "That's express shipping all right!"

"Sure was fast." Mordecai hummed to himself.

"Uh huh."

Great. So the flowers and all the hard physical labor were gonna happen first thing in the morning? What a pleasant way to start off the day! It was as if he could feel his aching muscles already. Tomorrow was going to be a long day he knew that for sure.

He could only hope the premium hotdog incident stayed silent.

"So where's your 360?" Rigby's higher pitched voice caused Mordecai to turn his nose downward.

Oh yeah! There was a change of subject he was more than welcomed to hear. Ah, there was always that idea to keep him going through the day tomorrow. The thought of battling zombie horde after zombie horde! Ah, if only all the things he read about online could be true! Infected, special infected and the Tanks!

It. Was. Gonna. Be. Sweet.

Rye didn't say anything as she pushed her torso away from the counter. She then stepped out of the very small kitchen and made her way into the slightly large living area. A small loveseat couch sat against the back wall while a large, older style box television stood against the opposite wall. Just below the television cabinet sat the white console. It was one of the most glorious sights he had ever seen.

"Aw!" Rigby threw himself at the gaming console. "This so cool! How does it work?"

Rye dashed toward the raccoon and pulled his left arm backward, pulling away from the expensive device. "Be careful!" She hissed. "I don't want coffee all over my Xbox!"

"Geez, lady." Rigby was quick to pout. "I'll be careful."

"Wow," Mordecai was next to approach the gadget with wide eyes. "Its bigger than I thought."

"Where's the game?" The smaller brown mammal turned to face Rye along with a grin Mordecai had only seen when they had bought a new game. "I wanna try it out!"

The blue jay forced a glare. "Hey, no practicing, Rigby. You know we're gonna play the first time through together."

Of course that statement was a lie. But Mordecai wasn't going to tell Rigby anything about the game Rye and himself were going to play first, not until the night they all sat down to play of course. Any hit that Rye was going to be his first partner would send the feisty slacker into a frenzy.

"So when are we gonna have a game night?" Rigby said with a sparkle in his eyes.

Mordecai turned his attention to Rye, it was her game after all, and she should make the date. He watched was the older female flopped down on the small loveseat. She then began to stretch her arms outward and upward. A few quiet cracks later, she slouched into the couch.

"Well?" The raccoon asked, finding little effort to stay patient.

"Sometime after we get started on the landscaping." She said, closing her eyes and allowing her head to fall backward onto the headrest.

"Whuuuuut?" The two boys asked.

"It only makes sense," Rye moved her right hand to her face and slowly removed her glasses from her nose. "If you two start playing and really enjoy it then it'll take a truck to pull you away from it."

"You think we'll dig it that much?" Mordecai had to ask.

She moved her head up and cracked open a single eye. "I know you two will." She added a slick smile to the end of her sentence.

Mordecai turned to Rigby while the raccoon did the same. The two stared at one another while a pair of small smiles began to grow on their faces. Small smirks turned into full on ear-to-ear grins at the thought of staying awake all night with thee best zombie game ever created! As if on cue and as if they could read each other's minds, the two boys threw their arms into the air and began to, carefully, wave their hands back and forth.

"Watch the coffee." Rye giggled as she shut her open eye and returned her head to the headrest.

The boys then released a long and loud 'oooh', their classic victory call. There was no better situation for them to release a battle cry such as that. It was only a matter of time before they could release their victory dance and call for defeating the game for real. It was just a few days from now, right?

Act End


	8. Act Eight

Java Chip Frappe

Act Eight

What a way to start off the morning. If it wasn't enough that he woke up late, much later than usual but then to enter the house only to find no trace of Mordecai and Rigby? Ugh! This was not looking up for Benson. His usual 'midday headache' had begun early as well. That meant more Advil for sure.

He stepped through the eerily silent house, waiting to hear any sign of the two well-known slackers. It was only a matter of time before he figured out if they were up to any no good, which was _always_ the case. He was going to find them and give them a good 'talking to', something they _always_ needed.

Today was more important, actually the next eleven days, were more important than the last few weeks. Pops' birthday was right around the corner and Mr. Maellard wanted the place looking spiffy. And today the flowers Rye had ordered had finally come in. Benson was aware of the fact that Mordecai and Rigby had brought all the bags of soil and fertilizer from the landscaper's home yesterday afternoon, how she got them to cooperate was something he wasn't sure of but the job got done nonetheless.

Why question it?

Unless there was some reason _why_ the two were on their best behavior.

There wasn't a reason to be hasty when jumping to assumptions, right? He would wait it out, for now. The truth behind the reason why they were working like real employees would come out soon enough. Oh and he'd be there to voice his opinion, there was no mistaking that.

The house remained quiet as he waltzed into the kitchen. He looked to the chairs, table then counters. No one. Hm, this was interesting. Where had those two numbskulls gone? They weren't working were they? No, not after being told only once? That was near impossible.

His eyes finally spotted something out of the ordinary. On the farthest counter, beside the refrigerator, sat a cardboard carrier meant for multiple cups of hot coffee. In the container sat two untouched cups, a suspicious sight. What the heck? When did anyone in this house or property go on coffee runs for anyone?

He moved toward the cardboard cargo-carrier with a single brow arched. This wasn't some kind of trick, was it? He wouldn't put it passed Rigby to somehow 'poison' one of the drinks. Dare he risk it?

"Oh, hello Benson!"

He flinched before jerking his head over his shoulder. The image of Pops skipping into the kitchen was a sign of relief. If Pops was safe and sound that meant his post as park manager was too, right?

"Hey Pops." He replied in a smooth tone.

"Isn't a glorious day out?" He clapped his hands together in delight while his smile grew.

"Yeah," Time for a subject change to get to the bottom of this situation. "Who got the coffee?" Benson asked, jerking his head in the direction of the carrier.

"Our lovely young lady friend of course." He said without hesitation.

Ah, Rye then. If Benson remembered correctly, she had a friend that worked at the Coffee Shop, that's where she must have gotten the coffee at a discounted rate. Whatever, coffee was coffee and if she was going to feed his employees for free then all the more power to her.

"Go ahead and have a cup," Pops giggled as he turned his back to his subordinate and prepared to exit the room. "She said everyone and anyone could help themselves!"

A nice enough gesture, why not take Rye up on her offer? Now left alone in the kitchen once again, Benson reached down to the cardboard carrier and plucked a single cup up. It was still warm to the touch, a sign that Rye had just arrived on the job. So he was surpassed in getting to work before the _landscapist_? Now there was a bad sign.

Nothing he could do about it now.

Only thing to do now was make sure those two slackers were actually working instead of playing. With his warm cup of coffee still in hand, his made his way to the backdoor. He extended his left arm and pushed it open. The sunlight hit his face, causing his body temperature to rise. Spring had defiantly come, that was for sure.

Moving one foot in front of the other, he stepped out into the park. Out of the corner of his eye he saw many bags of fertilizer standing against the back wall. There was also a single golf cart missing, that must mean Mordecai and Rigby were using it. He might as well check on them, he needed to make sure Rye was all right in any event.

He approached the last cart and took his seat. He placed his full coffee cup in the small cup holder and started the vehicle. Benson pulled out of the lot with perfection and ease before putting the car in drive. He sped off within seconds and headed north. His destination was the gazebo, where most of the landscaping was supposed to take place.

Before he had a chance to think twice about what he was going to say, or shout, when he saw Mordecai and Rigby slacking off, he was at his destination. Upon arriving, he saw the trio standing together just in front of the large gazebo. They stood with their backs facing south, backs facing him, while two large bags of soil and fertilizer at their sides. There was also the addition of three large cardboard boxes, which Benson assumed were the plants they had ordered from QVC.

He put on the brakes in silence and stepped out of the cart. He straightened out his back and lifted his hand to his mouth. "Mordecai, Rigby."

The two boys jumped at the call of their names and whirled around to face their boss. Rye did the same about two seconds later, notebook and pencil in hand. It was by this time that Benson noticed the two shovels on the ground. Were they actually working?

"Hey Benson," Mordecai was first to speak.

Rye lifted her hand to her head and pulled down the pair of glasses she had placed above her forehead and adjusted them on her nose. "Is something wrong?" She asked as her right brow arched.

Yes! The sight the mere _thought_ of Mordecai and Rigby working without being asked was wrong! What the heck? He fought back the urge to speak his mind and composed himself. "I got in late," He began after clearing his throat. "I wanted to see what everyone was up to."

"Chillax," Rigby waved his paw back and forth. "We got this."

"What?" Benson felt his himself choke on his words.

"Yeah," Mordecai was quick to agree. "We're working hard, really. We want this done as soon as possible."

Okay now this was just getting strange. It wasn't a good feeling either, it was one of those 'instincts' that told him to beware. But was he going to punish his employees if they hadn't done anything wrong…yet. There _was_ one way to find out for sure.

"Rye," Benson locked gazes with the only female. "Can I speak to you?"

Said woman moved her pencil to her ear for safekeeping and moved her notepad to her back jean pocket. She then approached the oldest male with a smile. "Sure."

Benson beckoned her further away from the two troublemakers. As soon as they were out of earshot, the gumball machine crossed his arms over his chest. "Have they given you any trouble?" He asked with a stern tone and face.

Rye hummed to herself for a moment, her eyes darting off in different directions. "No, not really."

What? Enough was enough! He was going to get down to the bottom of this strange situation if it killed him! This was just too strange. Either Rye was lying to his face or Mordecai and Rigby were planning something pure evil. There was no way he was going to let them get away with anything!

"I've never seen them so eager to work." He continued in a suspicious tone while his eyes never left hers.

A few stray giggles left the girl's lips. She then let her eyes bounce back in the direction of Mordecai and Rigby. Benson followed her actions and looked beyond her shoulders to see the two boys playing with their shovels. Using the heavy metal tools like swords, they poked and jabbed at one another. Mordecai moved left, Rigby moved right until, the raccoon's 'weapon' dug deep into the blue jay's underarm. The taller male released a lengthy howl before dropping to his back in defeat.

"So what is it?" Benson brought his attention back to Rye.

"A little bribery goes a long way."

Bribery? Wait, _that's_ what this was about? She was promising them something if they worked their hardest? It was hardly the right way to motivate anyone, unprofessional to a fault.

Then again…

He looked back at the two boys to see them both back up on their feet. They then began to high five one another and make stupid, silly sounds at one another. True he had never tired that method of madness but was it really worth it? After all, getting a paycheck should be bribery enough! Damn boys. Now the only question was, what was she promising in return?

"Whatever your bribing them with better not cost the park money." Benson's eyes moved back to her.

"Oh it won't." She was quick to reassure him. "Its just a game night."

"Game night, huh?" He cocked a brow.

She flashed a smile at him before giving him a solid thumbs up. "There's only one condition."

Smiling and a thumbs up and yet she was threatening him? "What is it?" He groaned; this wasn't going to go well, he could feel it.

"That you come of course." Rye moved her arm downward while her cocky grin remained on her face. "I hear that you need to loosen up a bit."

Loosen up? What the heck was that supposed to mean? That wasn't _sarcasm _laced in her voice, was there? He couldn't know for sure, this girl was all new to him. She wasn't planning anything stupid, was she? Ugh, wouldn't that be terrible! But what evidence did he have to go on?

He'd at least give it the old college try.

"Fine."

"Cool." Rye began to turn away from Benson, her smile still stuck to her cheeks. "We'll discuss a date later, when some of this landscaping is out of the way."

Ah, that's what he liked to hear. Working to get this whole project finished before Pops' party was the only thing on his mind at the moment. He wanted to please his boss; perhaps then he'd at least give him the courtesy of remembering his name! Some respect would be nice.

He watched as Rye returned to Mordecai and Rigby. Her voice entered the air but he wasn't sure what she was saying. As long as she was telling them what to do, she could speak all day if she wanted.

That was that. Now it was time for him to begin on his usual chores. But first, he needed to put some much needed cream and sugar into his coffee cup. If he was going to restart the day right, he needed his coffee. He returned to his white golf cart and slipped inside. Pulling the cart out of park and into drive, he made his way back to the house.

The large home came into sight within moments. Ah, he could taste the coffee now. It had been awhile since he actually choked up the three bucks to buy some from the shop. The taste of homebrewed coffee did become stale after sometime. It was nice to have an occasional treat. If anyone working here deserved it, it was him.

Busting his ass everyday had to have some kind of reward.

He parked the white vehicle in its proper place and pulled his tired body out of it. He then grabbed his lukewarm drink and headed into the kitchen. Just a little cream, sugar and a quick trip in the microwave and he'd be ready to go! He approached the door and pushed it open with ease. As he began to enter the brightly lit kitchen the sound of running water caught him off guard. Was someone already in the kitchen?

He entered and looked to the right. Standing in front of the sink stood a young woman, an unfamiliar young woman. She stood taller than Rye but wore a shorter hairstyle. She held her hands beneath the running faucet, the sound of the creaking back door catching her attention and causing her to break her concentration. She jerked her head to her left shoulder and locked eyes with him. For such a quiet, awkward moment, his mind was screaming with questions. What the heck was she doing in the house?

She was a visitor to the park, he assumed.

"Excuse me," He began in a soft, professional tone. "You can't be in here."

She flinched after hearing him speak. She then moved her hand to the faucet head and switched off the running water. Shaking her hands of the excess water, she continued to stare at him as if _he_ were out of place.

"Miss?"

Her eyebrows furrowed and her bottom lip pouted. "I have every right to be in here." She spoke in a strong and confident voice.

What? Was she mad? Okay this was one of 'those' situations where he had to be dealing with someone who wasn't one hundred percent there. She had to be in the same category as the guy who frequently hid in the mattresses by the stream and called himself a knight.

"No," He corrected the female in a calm tone. "I'm sorry, you're going to have to leave."

The woman's scowl deepened. "Who the heck are you?" She snorted, "You can't come in here and tell me what to do!"

He took a few steps toward the young lady, placing his cup on the counter in the process and moved his arms in the direction of the door. "Miss, you have to leave now."

"You act like I'm raiding the place!" She crossed her arms over her bust. "If I'm going to work here, I have every right to use the sink!"

"Work here?" Benson's brow arched in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

"What part of my last sentence was confusing?"

Okay, enough was enough. He stepped toward the young woman and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. He applied a soft pressure and began to push her out the door he had just come in from. "Now please stay out of the ground keeper's house. Otherwise I'll have to call the authorities."

Her feet moved forward, much to her dismay and soon she was pressed against the doorway leading into the park. She jerked her chin over her shoulder and growled. "Go ahead!" She was quick to urge him on. "You can't force me out of here!"

With a single push, her body was moved out of the house. Benson slammed the door shut as fast as he could and locked the door. Now it was time to lock all the other doors and windows.

Ugh, when did this job come with psychos in the description? Waking up late, having to agree to a game night and now this crazed woman? This day just kept getting better.

Act End


	9. Act Nine

I've decided to reupload this chapter with the extra two pages. Since I haven't been working on it for awhile and I didn't want to leave the end on a cliff hanger for too long, I've decided to repost. Sorry for the spam. I hope you'll enjoy.

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Java Chip Frappe

Act Nine

What the heck? Since when did any _man_ tell her what to do? She wasn't going to deal with this laying down! Not for one moment! Heather was a stronger woman than she appeared and no man was going to force her around like she was some kind of Barbie doll!

She was going to action without hesitation!

At least that's what she thought three hours ago. Three hours ago she swore to herself that she'd whirl back around on her heel and pound her fists against the door. Three hours ago there was no force on earth that would keep her from standing up to that strange man that had come in and pushed her out.

So why hadn't she acted on her thought? Damn if she knew why.

There wasn't a lot of time to think it over anyway; Pops was waiting up for her in one of the future garden grounds. The idea of making that overgrown kid waiting for too long was something Heather didn't want to keep ripe in her mind. Eh, either way he was a nice older gentleman, why be rude and come back later than expected?

Rye had told her sometime late the pervious night that Pops was the son of the man who owned the park. So it was a good idea if she didn't piss him off in anyway, as if that were possible, he seemed innocent enough. Out of anyone she had met at the park, he seemed the one she could get along best with. Perhaps this was a future friendship in the making?

It had been two and half long hours in the sun, digging, pulling weeds and preparing the ground in any and every way possible for the future rose bushes that would be planted there. It was a grueling two hours spent doing what felt like nothing. And to add more salt to her exposed wound, Pops was a specialist at watching her work. Of course he did small jobs, like handing her a garbage bag every so often but it wasn't looking like Pops was going to do half the work as she expected. Whatever, he was he owner's son after all.

Heather, while seated on her knees, reached down with gloved hands and began to pull one of the final weeds that littered the area. The dandelion was one of the larger weeds that she had left last to pull out; why she left the larger ones for herself she didn't know. Procrastination was one of her stronger suits.

As her pink-gloved fingers wrapped around the trunk of the weed, the sound of static caused her to flinch. She jerked her neck up straight and looked over her left shoulder. Pops pranced toward their golf cart and detached the radio from the controls. Placing the small black device to his lips he waited for a reply.

"_Pops,"_ A deeper voice came over the radio. _"We're holding an emergency meeting at the snack bar. Get here as quick as you can."_

"Oh!" Pops gasped to himself. "We'll be right there, Benson."

Benson, eh? So that was the guy who ran all the missions around this joint. It would be nice to finally meet him, seeing as she was now working with Rye. Maybe if she played the drama card a bit she would get some extra cash for herself? It was worth a shot, wasn't it?

Heather watched as Pops moved the silenced radio back to the cart's control desk. He then pulled back and looked to the female with a wide smile, obviously the term 'emergency meeting' didn't seem to bother him much. "Come along Hea, its about time you met Benson."

Her thoughts exactly.

She wasted no time pushing her body off the grassy ground. Moving her right hand over to her left, she slipped off the rubber gardening gloves and let them hit the floor, one after the other. She took a short moment to dust off her black pants before stepping toward the older gentleman.

Pops slid inside the right side of the golf cart, allowing her to control the stirring wheel once again. Heather didn't waste a second in asking why and instead took her assigned seat in the vehicle. Now that she knew her way to the snack bar, it shouldn't take long, right?

XoXoX

Emergency meeting was an understatement. She knew this just by driving up to the snack bar. The imagery of her sister with Mordecai and Rigby were just the beginning. Muscle Man, High-five Ghost _and_ Skips stood outside the bar as well, all seeming very tense. Heather stepped on the brakes, allowing the vehicle to come to a stop. She put the cart into park and began to step out of the car.

Pops was second to pull his body out of the cart and took his 'seat' along side Heather in the group. She looked to her right to see the long line of park employees standing beside her; they all seemed to have seen a ghost. What was the problem?

Oh wait a frikkin' second. Oh no. The hotdogs.

This couldn't be about those stupid hotdogs, could it? Oh geez, no! That incident only happened the other day! There was no way the Big Cheese could have found out about the missing dogs _this_ quick! Ugh.

"_We're ALL in a lot of trouble!"_

Mordecai's haunting words echoed in her ears. Oh boy, this was gonna be wonderful. She was going to get fired at a job she hadn't even been hired at yet!

The sound of the snack bar door creaking open caused Heather's back to shoot straight up. Sweat began to build on her brow and she began to chew on her bottom lip. Oh God, what she wouldn't give to just take one of the golf carts and bail. Was there anything worse than being a Bail Whale?

The door swung open with a single movement. She had to shut her eyes tight for a single moment, ugh she was gonna get it now. Why did she have to be so stupid and stubborn? Then again, it was for the best for her inner chef to hand out the good hotdogs, right? Gah! It was just too confusing! How could she be proud yet embarrassed all at the same time?

The sound of footsteps through the grass forced her to open her right eye. If she were going to face the big boss she would at least look him in the face. Starting from the floor, she saw a pair of two long metallic legs. Her eyes scanned his body until her eyes met his distracted gaze.

Wait, was this déjà vu? She had seen this guy before!

"_Miss, you have to leave now."_

This guy was Benson? _This_ guy? No, no, no! This guy couldn't possibly be Benson! The guy, who had reached out, touched her shoulders and shoved her out of the kitchen? Oh great, not only was she in trouble for the hotdog incident, but now the trespassing episode too?

She watched as he tore his attention away from his clipboard, his eyes finally locking with hers. His eyes dilated without any hesitation and his arms jerked backward. His trusty clipboard fell from his fingers and his jaw dropped open.

"You!" He shouted. "What are YOU doing here?"

Heather felt the eyes of everyone in the group turn to face her. With so many looks glued to her, she felt a rush of heat grow on her cheeks. Then the instinct to fight or fly went into gear. If she wasn't going to turn tail and run from the situation she was going to fight it. Just like she had the day Rigby had criticized her food.

She felt her brow hang heavy over her eyes and a frown form on her lips. "What are _YOU_ doing here?" Was the only comeback she could come up with on such short notice.

"I WORK HERE!"

Once again the attention was turned back to her. The red flush on her face deepened as the group waited for her response. What was she supposed to say? Now that she knew this guy was the boss of this place, was she supposed to act up in retaliation?

"I work here too!" Heather shot back, thrusting her right thumb into her chest.

Benson's brow twitched. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh Benson don't be mad." Pops was quick to jump to her defense. "Hea is Rye's younger sibling!"

"Hea?" Benson turned to the older male, voice more subdued by this point. "_You're_ Heather?" He then jerked his head back into the baker's direction.

She gulped, trying her best to keep her 'tough girl' exterior fresh. "Yeah, so what about it?"

The boss cocked his brow in confusion. "The one from the Coffee Shop?"

"Yes!" Pops giggled in delight. "She's also the one who brought the coffee this morning."

Silence. Heather felt her tense shoulder begin to relax. The sweat that had begun to fall from her brow had grown cold on her skin and goosebumps began to develop on her arms. Everything seemed to come to a halt with Benson's silence. What was wrong with him? Why had he suddenly stopped his rant?

"It was my idea."

She flinched before jerking her head to the right. Rye had stepped out of her place in line and took a few steps forward. She extended her hand toward Benson while her soft features added a bonus to her plea deal.

"I asked her to come and help out," Rye began speaking once again. "Because I can't plant the honeysuckle. If there's any problem, don't take it out on her, take it up with me."

"I…" Benson opened his mouth to speak, only to find himself speechless.

"So I had every right to use the sink." Heather said as she felt a slick smirk spread over her cheeks.

The subdued look and aura around Benson flipped like a light switch. He tore his eyes away from Rye and turned back to her. This time with his fists clenched and frown larger. So he didn't like her challenge, did he? Ha! Served him right for pushing her out of he house when he did! Who was in charge now?

"It might have helped if you had explained yourself to me!" Benson snapped.

Heather forced her arms over her chest and shut her eyes. "I don't have to explain myself to anyone let alone you."

"If you're going to work here, that makes me your boss!"

Oh shoot, she hadn't thought of that.

Heather's eyes snapped open and her eyes met with his once again. By this time his entire body had begun to glow dull shade of red. As the moments passed, his complexion returned to normal and he cleared his throat.

"And that means you're going to listen to me," He continued. "Or you'll be fired."

Fine two could play at that game. Even if she wasn't going to say anything, that didn't mean she would be _planning_ anything. If he was going to flaunt his place of authority in her face then she was going to fight back with every weapon she had at her disposal. No one was going to act as a superior to her!

"Wait, what is going on? What ABOUT the sink?"

Heather broke her staring contest with Benson and turned to see Muscle Man flaying his arms about in the air.

"Never mind." Benson shook his head from right to left.

"What were we called here for?" Skips spoke out next. "What's the emergency?"

"Before I get to that," Benson looked to Pops and addressed the older man with a calm voice. "Pops, go inside and call Mr. Maellard for me. Tell him that we have a second worker for the landscaping."

Pops was quick to nod his large head. "Right away!" Within the instant, he skipped toward his cart and pulled it out of its parked position.

The area stayed silent until the Pops and his cart had left sight. Once the older male had left the area, everyone's attention returned to the grumpy gumball machine. He released a lengthy sigh before crossing his arms over his chest. Was he angry or disappointed, it was hard to tell.

"So you're Heather." He said in a dull tone.

Didn't they just go over that? Heather felt the urge to roll her eyes and groan aloud. "Yes." She grunted, refusing the urge to snap or lash out again.

"You're the baker who's going to bake Pops' birthday cake?"

Wait. What, what, WHAT?

Her jaw nearly hit the floor in shock. What the HELL was this idiot talking about? Not to mention the fact that he acted as if _she_ should already know of this information! Not only was she drafted into working on the landscaping now she was recruited to bake the birthday cake for the park owner's son?

"Wha-"

"Yes!" Mordecai threw his tall body in front of Heather, blocking her view from Benson.

"Yeah!" Rigby was second to jump out, along side his bestie.

Heather moved her body to the left, moving out of Mordecai's way. Her eyes met Benson's once more, only to see him with a single brow cocked in confusion. His puzzled look turned to a glare as he focused on the two boys in front of him. Was he suspicious of them?

Benson tore his narrowing eyes away from Mordecai and Rigby and looked to Heather once more. "I understand bake really good cakes."

Flattery? After being so rude! No way!

She squinted her eyes and poked out her bottom lip. "Is that what you heard from these two?" She asked, nudging her head in Mordecai and Rigby's direction.

Because if that was the truth, then there were two young liars standing in their midst! No way, Rigby was _not _going to insult her food _then_ go to his boss and ask for a cake! It was worse than any punishment she could have ever been given, to be insulted once at her place of work then to be embarrassed in front of a group of strangers? And they agreed to this behind her back? It was beyond offensive!

"Rye seems to agree." He said with a pout.

Rye? Heather looked to her right to see her sister with a large shit-eating grin on her face. Her eyes had darted off in a different direction while her two lips poked out in a childish manner. Oh so she thought this was cute, did she? How could her sister betray her like this?

"You do bake, don't you?"

He was speaking again, even if she wasn't looking in his direction, Benson continued to address her. After a moment of sending her elder sister a death glare, Heather turned her head back to face the older man.

Did she bake? What kind of question was that? It wasn't another insult, was it? If it was, she wasn't going to go down as easily as she had in the kitchen. This was her second chance to stand up for herself.

"I don't just bake cakes." She straightened her shoulders and narrowed her field of vision at her 'boss'. "I bake the best cakes."

"The best?" Rigby glanced back at Heather.

Before she could defend herself, Mordecai stepped in. He lifted his left foot and seconds later, slammed it down on Rigby's right foot. The smaller mammal released a loud yelp before throwing his hands down to his calf.

"Good to know." Benson said with a single nod. "I don't want to be disappointed."

Heather felt her scowl grow as her lip began to curl. Was that a threat or challenge? Either way she wasn't going to be defeated. Not by some lame manager of a failing park. She was better than him, better than _anyone_, besides her sister, who stood in the area. She was superior and she was going to prove it.

Then she could get a good laugh after saying, 'I told you so'.

"Don't worry about the cake," Heather hissed. "Worry about your so-called employees."

"Hey!" Rigby released his grip on his wounded leg and turned up to face the baker. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Heather moved her arms over her bust and shifted her weight to her right leg. "Exactly what it sounds like."

"Heather!" Rye balled up both of her fists and called out to her younger half.

Benson took a single step forward with a single hand lifted. "Relax."

"Can we PLEASE get to the emergency part of this meeting?" Muscle Man huffed and snorted with displeasure.

Oh God, here it was, time for the truth to finally come out. No matter how much backtalk she gave Benson, the time had come. Her misdeeds with the good, premium hotdogs had come to pass. What would be her punishment? She was going to be fired, she was sure of it.

Might as well go out with a bang, right?

"It seems _someone_ has used more than half of the premium hotdogs." Benson replied without hesitation. "I wanna know who it was, that way I can deduct that money from their paycheck."

"HOTDOGS?" Heather released a loud and obnoxious laugh that caused every person within earshot to give her a confused glare. She threw her open palm over her chest and continued to giggle-snort. "Is THAT what we're here for?"

Still giving her a strange and confused look, Benson gave a shallow nod of his head. "Yes," He cleared his throat for a short moment before continuing. "I paid good money for those dogs and I want to know which idiot I have to punish."

Heather shut her eyes for a brief moment before allowing her arm to swing outward in a nonchalant manner. "They're just a few franks, who gives a hoot? Its not like they were made out of gold or anything."

"They might have well been." Benson narrowed his field of vision at Heather. "They cost me a small fortune."

"Just go back down to the grocery store," Heather could feel beads of sweat building on her brow.

This wasn't going as smoothly as she thought it would have. She was sure a few persuasive words and a good chuckle would get Benson off of his high horse. All she was doing was incriminating herself even more than before. When she reopened her eyes, she saw the living gumball machine glaring back in her direction. When she glanced to the right left she saw even more pairs of eyes watching her, waiting for some kind of clever answer.

"We're going to have to." Benson's low voice caused Heather to jerk back in his direction. "I was saving those hotdogs for Pops' birthday barbeque."

Okay she could put two and two together. Birthday cake, barbeque that had to mean that someone was having a birthday bash in the not to distant future. And since the name 'Pops' had come up more than once, she could only assume it was for him.

Wait; was that the reason why Mr. Maellard wanted the park looking as spiffy as it could? _That_ was the reason why he had hired Rye? Things were coming together faster than Heather expected.

But who the HELL signed _her_ up as baker for the party? It wouldn't be a stretch to say that Mordecai and Rigby were the masterminds behind it all.

"So out with it."

Heather felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight. So this was her moment, this was her cue to speak up and take the blame? Hell no! She couldn't, she wouldn't! That was a death sentence for the job she hadn't even started. She jerked her head to the left once again, looking back to the other males and sister. They kept their staring eyes on her while gravity pulled at their frowns. So they weren't going to save her behind _and_ they weren't going to call her out?

One had to be worse than the other, she wasn't sure which; at least if someone put her name on blast, then it would be easier than speaking up at such an awkward moment.

Her eyes moved from Muscle Man and High-five who stood furthest away over to Rye. Her sister had a look of sympathy in her eyes that caused Heather's heart to ache. Oh geez, why did her elder sis have to stare at her with such glassy, round, brown eyes? Ah God, with a look like that, there was no way she _couldn't_ admit her wrongdoing.

Heather turned her head forward once again. She allowed her head to hang downward while her eyelids hung heavy over her dark brown eyes. Why did telling the truth always have to be so hard? As a child, she would have never admitted to something like this so why now? Damn, growing up and taking responsibility for her actions was a drag. A total drag.

"It was me."

She allowed her eyes to move up from the floor and focus on Benson's changing expression. His eyes widened and his jaw cracked open just a few inches. Then not more than a second later, his brow fell over his eyes and his mouth shut. He sported a very fitting frown before lacing his arms over his chest. Disappointment claimed his expression.

"But!" Heather jerked out over her standing position and took a single step forward. "I was doing it for the good of the park! I was selling them to make a good profit!" Hell, if she was going to be honest about the hotdogs, she could at least lie about her reasoning. She wasn't an angel just a crazy, perfectionist baker/cook.

Benson removed his arms from his chest and pushed his right hand to his cheek. He released a long, tired sigh before speaking. "So let me get this straight." He began in a calm, low voice, "You intruded on the snack bar, sold the _premium_ hotdogs and used the oven without signing a waiver?"

She felt her mouth and throat go dry. "Yes."

He gave a single nod of his glass head. With little effort, he moved his hand away from his face and allowed it to hit his side. He shut his eye for a short second before taking in a deep inhale of air. After reopening his eyes, he focused on Heather and steadied his features. His lips then moved with ease.

"You're fired."

It was as if the wind was knocked out of her lungs. Her jaw dropped and her eyes snapped open. All the sweat that had built on her brow fell down her face and dripped off her chin. She took a single shallow breath, trying to compose herself. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? She repeated his voice in her head.

"_You're fired."_

She was sure she heard him right. It wasn't something she confuse with anything else, right? And why in the world did it hurt so much? Sure it was the first time she had ever heard it from a boss and she had only gotten hired only seconds earlier, but it still stung.

"Wait a second,"

The sound of Rye's voice vibrated in her ears but Heather couldn't, refused to respond. She was speechless for once in her short life.

"This isn't fair," Rye stepped forward, moving herself between her younger sister and her boss. "She didn't know any different, it was a mistake."

"I don't care." Benson's pitch didn't change in the lest. "She used company property without permission _and_ she cooked without signing a waiver. What if she had gotten hurt? It would be our fault."

Rye's arms shout outward and her voice deepened. "I understand that but she wasn't trying to hurt anyone."

Mordecai stepped out of place and stood beside Rye. "Come on Benson, it wasn't like she did it on purpose. How many times has Rigby messed up and you never fired him."

"Hey!" Rigby squeaked. "Leave me out of this!"

Mordecai turned his chin over his shoulder and shot a glare at the raccoon, "Come on dude."

The sound of grass crunching caused Heather to flinch. She turned to see Skips place his fisted hands to his hips. He cleared his throat loud enough to catch Benson's attention. The yeti then moved forward, gently pushing passed Mordecai and Rye.

"She did clear out the fridge, Benson." He said in a monotone voice.

"Clear out of the fridge?" The gumball man repeated. "You mean there was expired food in there?"

"Quite a bit."

Benson tore his eyes away from Skips and moved his body to the right. Looking beyond Rye and Mordecai, his eyes locked with Heather's. He stared at her with wide, shocked eyes.

"There shouldn't have been," Benson said, attention still stuck to hers. "Its Rigby's job to clean the fridge out."

The sound of Rigby's small chuckle caused the entire group to turn downward. The small mammal had moved his hand up and behind his head. While he scratched the back of his ears, he released even louder nervous laughs. A look of guilt over came his face and he allowed his head to sink between his shoulders.

"Yeeeeeah, I was meaning to clean that out."

"Rigby!" Benson was quick to shout at the smaller male. "That could have _killed _someone!"

"But it didn't!" The raccoon shot back in his own defense. "Look, Heather cleaned it out, problem solved. Homicide evaded, its totally cool."

Benson's body began to flash a bright shade of red. "It is NOT cool!" He threw his balled fists down in anger as he continued to shout, "You're supposed to keep the fridge clean, that's what I pay you for!"

"Hey it's done man." Rigby moved his hands to his chest and allowed a smile to spread over his cheeks. "Move on."

The red gumball machine released a loud and unsatisfied groan before lifting his tiny hand to his face. He allowed his gray hand to hit his cheek and slide down in slow motion.

"So are you gonna give Heather her job back?"

Heather felt her heart thump in her chest. She locked her gaze to Skips' back and watched as he waited for Benson's reply. Why was he helping her? What had she done to deserve a second chance, after all she did make a big mistake, or at least it seemed that way. Either way, she was sure her heart couldn't beat any faster.

"If you can let Rigby get away without doing his job then I think she can have a second chance with hers." He spoke without hesitation.

Heather watched as the bright red complexion on Benson's face and body soon faded. He allowed his facial features to relax and his arm to return to his side. He looked to Skips for a moment then to Rigby and finally resting his eyes on her.

There was no anger in his eyes this time. He was frowning but his energy and mood seemed lighter than moments before. The cold, distant attitude softened and almost appeared to lighten. Was he feeling differently than he was minutes ago? Had Skips just saved her job?

"Fine." Benson finally broke the contact between them. "But only because I need her to bake Pops' birthday cake. But," He lifted a single finger into the air. "I'm deducting the price of the hotdogs from your pay."

Heather felt blood rushing to her cheeks. Her lips curled upward in a smile she couldn't refuse. It was as if the speechlessness she had hanging over her head blew away. Her entire body felt warm and light as if she were about to float away but she didn't care. It was a feeling she hadn't felt but somehow appeared familiar to her muscles. She was ready to leap from her standing spot and grab onto Skips, giving him a 'thank you hug'. Only if he wasn't so intimidating…

"Deal!" Heather squealed in excitement.

"Oh," Benson was quick to speak out again. "And you're going to the store to get more." He said, shooting a death glare in her direction. "Don't skimp on the quality either."

Heather felt her 'lighter than air' feeling plummet. "Do I have to pay for them?"

He gave her a blank stare. "Do I have to ask?"

His point was clear enough; she didn't need to ask any further. Although the idea of having her pay deducted _and_ having to pay for the new hotdogs out of pocket was not something she found fair, she didn't have much of a choice. She'd still be making money working for him, right? Money was money.

"Fine." She was quick to pout again. "I'm getting Nathan's hotdogs. They're the best after all."

Benson lifted his hand and shut his eyes. "As long as they're good that's all that matters."

"I can do that." Heather forced a smile. "I'll make them even better than those primo-dogs too. You can count on that."

Act End.


End file.
